Part 35, by William the Bloody
"I'll knock", said Buffy. "Maybe you should go wait down the hall, just in case."
"I'm not getting that far away from you until we know what we're up against."
She said, "Ok, but at least stand out of view of the door. So not wanting a dusty Spike now." She gave him a little smile. He stepped back and leaned against the wall next to the doorway while she knocked on the door. Nobody answered.
"I don't hear anybody in there, Buffy." Spike said.
"No? Well, maybe we should just break in."
"You could try the door first."
"Oh, yeah, I guess I could." She grabbed the doorknob. The door was locked, however, and Spike ended up having to pick the lock. Buffy entered the apartment.
Spike whispered anxiously, "Be careful! I can't come in to help you if anything happens!"
"I'll be ok. You said he's probably not even here." She searched the whole apartment but found no one. "All this way, and we don't even find him", sighed Buffy. As she was about to leave, something on the small table by the door caught her eye.
She reached over and picked up a framed picture of a girl, who looked to be about Dawn's age. The picture was obviously very old. There was also an equally old book sitting next to where the picture had been. Buffy set down the picture and picked up the book. It was all hand written, but it wasn't in English. "Well, that's not much help."
"What's not, luv?"
"This. It's not written in English."
"Can I see it?" Spike asked. Buffy stepped out into the hallway and handed the book to him. "It's German", he said.
"Oh, Anya said Giles had been talking in German. I wonder if there's anything in there that would give us more information. We'd better find someone who's knows German."
"I can read it, luv", Spike said as he flipped through the pages.
"What? YOU know German?" She sounded doubtful.
"I've been around a long time, and traveled a lot. Picked up a few things."
She watched him a bit awed. She realized how little she really knew about him, and hoped to have a chance to remedy that.
Spike turned to the most recent entry. He gradually went back a few pages, before lowering the book away from his face. "You're not going to like this, Buffy. It's a watcher's diary."
"Well, Giles always kept a diary. Maybe he's just practicing his foreign languages…" Buffy said hopefully.
"It's not Giles' handwriting. It's much larger and neater than his. Giles writes in this tiny, messy, almost indecipherable scrawl. Also, the slayer's name is Emma. You haven't changed your name to Emma, have you?"
"I guess Giles must be reading old watchers' diaries. Giles. Dusty old books. Pretty normal mix." She was desperately avoiding acknowledging what was going on.
Spike grabbed her firmly by the shoulder and looked her directly in the eye. He needed to get through to her. "Buffy, most of the pages in this book, the ink is very old and slightly faded. But the last few entries are new." He showed her the pages where the old faded ink gave way to obviously recent writing. "Buffy, Giles is possessed by this other watcher. It would explain his suddenly wanting to stake me. Although he still seemed to know who I was, about the chip and everything, so he isn't totally gone, or at least wasn't before he left."
Buffy reached back through the door and took the picture that she assumed must be Emma. "Bring the diary, Spike. We'd better take this stuff and get back to meet with the others. Oh god, we've got a long walk back!"
"I could nick us some transportation. We passed a car dealer not too far from here."
"Spike!"
"You didn't mind when I took the RV. Hell, you helped."
"That was different. Our lives were at stake."
"Luv, mine still is. Someone's out to stake me, plus we need to be sure we're back before the sun fries me."
She looked at him, realizing he was right. "Well, ok, but we're stealing some old junker. You're not taking some fancy new sports car."
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, luv."
Part 36, by Estepheia
If one stayed on well-lit streets, it was a bit more than half an hour's walk from the Magic Shop to Giles's appartment. Tara liked walking. It helped her think. As a child she had had to trek three miles in order to get to school, and back, in wind and weather, in cold and heat, because her folks had lived in the middle of nowhere. She had secretly enjoyed the hours she could spend away from home. Dawn, however, was complaining. She hated going anywhere on foot, unless one counted loitering about in shopping malls and looking at lipstick, shoes and jewelry as walking.
She was also peeved about the injustice of being 15 years old and the younger sister or a Slayer. "Why can't I come along? When Buffy was 15 she burnt down the gym of her school. If I did that Buffy would have me grounded till forever."
Tara had heard Dawns complaints before, but she remained patient. "If you care about someone, you want that person to be safe. I know Willow feels that way about me. She'd ... like really worry ... you know, if I did something dangerous. It's the same with Buffy. She just wants to protect you."
"Yeah well, it still sucks! What about me? I worry about HER, too. And I never know, if ... if she'll be alright!"
There was enough anguish in Dawn's voice to make Tara feel sorry for the girl. Perhaps it was really time to give Dawn something useful to learn. To enable her to contribute something to the Scoobie Gang. She gave Dawn a shy smile and suggested: "Why don't I teach you to do Tarot readings? Or would you prefer palmistry? I'm sure Buffy wouldn't mind. It's not like I would be teaching you spells or anything."
"Tarot? Cool! Would you really?
"I don't see why not. It would be really useful. I can explain the basics to you tonight. And tomorrow we will get you a deck from the Magic shop."
Dawn was visibly in a better mood now. There was a carefree bounce in her step and she already saw herself at the shop looking at the different Tarot decks she knew Giles stocked. When suddenly something occured to her.
"Tara?
"Yes?"
"How did the Council of Watchers know that Giles was missing?"
"They did?
"Yes, Anya said that the Council had called to find out which items Giles took when he left. They made her check the whole stock. But how did they know he had left?"
Tara frowned.
"Good question." she said.
***
When he regained consciousness Xander was cold, and his tongue felt like it needed a shave. *God, what a terrible furry taste! What a hangover!* Strong arms were cradling him, propping him upright in a sitting position. One hand was gripping his left shoulder, while the other hand was stroking his forehead and playing with his hair. He sighed contentedly without opening his eyes. He noticed a nice smell, lavender and something else. It seemed Anya used a new kind of scented soap.
*Anya?* Suddenly he realized that this could be no ordinary hangover, because he hadn't been drinking. And that chill he was feeling wasn't caused by the climate. He was leaning against a cold body, and the arms and hands that were holding him so gently were just as cold. This absence of body heat could only mean one thing.... *Vampire!*
Panic swept over him. He struggled, trying to break that chilling embrace, but was easily overpowered. "Hush, my boy, don't fret." a dreamy voice said. Xander recognized the English accent. This was Drusilla, Spikes insane ex. He was so not going to open his eyes. *no Sir!* If he didn't look at her, surely she couldn't hypnotize him, could she?
"I would have turned you, my little lamb, but the Knight of Swords has poured acid and poison into your veins. Wicked man. I met him long ago, I think. His tears tasted all salty, but I liked his eyes even more. He killed himself once, I wish he'd do it again. He wants to hurt me, you know. But Spike won't let him."
*Oh boy, this Lady MacFang is really quite unhinged. What's that about acid and poison?* Xander realized that she was referring to the tranquilizer the dart from Giles's gun had injected into his bloodstream. Sooner or later the drug would wear off, and then this lunatic vampire would drink his blood and possibly make him her minion, fledgeling or whatever it was these bloodsuckers called their offspring. *Not good!*
"Look at me, sweet boy."
Xander shook his head wildly, his eyes squeezed shut. No more hypnosis. Being Dracula's Renfield had been humiliating enough.
He felt Drusilla's hand stroking his hair. "Your heartbeat tells me all your little secrets. You are afraid. But you mustn't be. The night is beautiful, it will embrace you like a mother. My mother is dead, you know. They lay her in the cold ground. Angelus had to kill her. I'll kill yours for you, if you like?"
"No, thanks. I should really do that myself. But thanks for the kind offer. Listen, I so want to give dying and being turned a miss tonight. Why don't we talk about this again in say fifty years time?" He knew he was babbling. But he had no idea how to get out of this alive. *Anya!* He had to somehow convince the vampire to let him go. Anya needed him!
The stroking stopped. "Wouln't you be all old and wrinkly in fifty years? You are a naughty boy, trying to trick me. "Drusilla said quite lucidly. Then she giggled. He felt a cool hand gliding under his shirt and then a sharp fingernail scratched his chest, drawing blood.
Why was it, that he always attracted women of the weirdest kind? The giant praying mantis, the Inca Mummy, Cordelia (definitely weird in her self-centered way), an 11.000 year old ex-demon and now this utterly insane vampire? Eew! If he were turned would that mean he and Angel were to be relatives? And Spike would be his undead brother? Double eew!
*Wait! Hello, inspiration!*
"You don't want ME, you want Spike. You want him back? You shall have him."
And he looked straight into Drusilla's eyes. "With my help, you will have him back to loving you in no time."
"I'll knock", said Buffy. "Maybe you should go wait down the hall, just in case."
"I'm not getting that far away from you until we know what we're up against."
She said, "Ok, but at least stand out of view of the door. So not wanting a dusty Spike now." She gave him a little smile. He stepped back and leaned against the wall next to the doorway while she knocked on the door. Nobody answered.
"I don't hear anybody in there, Buffy." Spike said.
"No? Well, maybe we should just break in."
"You could try the door first."
"Oh, yeah, I guess I could." She grabbed the doorknob. The door was locked, however, and Spike ended up having to pick the lock. Buffy entered the apartment.
Spike whispered anxiously, "Be careful! I can't come in to help you if anything happens!"
"I'll be ok. You said he's probably not even here." She searched the whole apartment but found no one. "All this way, and we don't even find him", sighed Buffy. As she was about to leave, something on the small table by the door caught her eye.
She reached over and picked up a framed picture of a girl, who looked to be about Dawn's age. The picture was obviously very old. There was also an equally old book sitting next to where the picture had been. Buffy set down the picture and picked up the book. It was all hand written, but it wasn't in English. "Well, that's not much help."
"What's not, luv?"
"This. It's not written in English."
"Can I see it?" Spike asked. Buffy stepped out into the hallway and handed the book to him. "It's German", he said.
"Oh, Anya said Giles had been talking in German. I wonder if there's anything in there that would give us more information. We'd better find someone who's knows German."
"I can read it, luv", Spike said as he flipped through the pages.
"What? YOU know German?" She sounded doubtful.
"I've been around a long time, and traveled a lot. Picked up a few things."
She watched him a bit awed. She realized how little she really knew about him, and hoped to have a chance to remedy that.
Spike turned to the most recent entry. He gradually went back a few pages, before lowering the book away from his face. "You're not going to like this, Buffy. It's a watcher's diary."
"Well, Giles always kept a diary. Maybe he's just practicing his foreign languages…" Buffy said hopefully.
"It's not Giles' handwriting. It's much larger and neater than his. Giles writes in this tiny, messy, almost indecipherable scrawl. Also, the slayer's name is Emma. You haven't changed your name to Emma, have you?"
"I guess Giles must be reading old watchers' diaries. Giles. Dusty old books. Pretty normal mix." She was desperately avoiding acknowledging what was going on.
Spike grabbed her firmly by the shoulder and looked her directly in the eye. He needed to get through to her. "Buffy, most of the pages in this book, the ink is very old and slightly faded. But the last few entries are new." He showed her the pages where the old faded ink gave way to obviously recent writing. "Buffy, Giles is possessed by this other watcher. It would explain his suddenly wanting to stake me. Although he still seemed to know who I was, about the chip and everything, so he isn't totally gone, or at least wasn't before he left."
Buffy reached back through the door and took the picture that she assumed must be Emma. "Bring the diary, Spike. We'd better take this stuff and get back to meet with the others. Oh god, we've got a long walk back!"
"I could nick us some transportation. We passed a car dealer not too far from here."
"Spike!"
"You didn't mind when I took the RV. Hell, you helped."
"That was different. Our lives were at stake."
"Luv, mine still is. Someone's out to stake me, plus we need to be sure we're back before the sun fries me."
She looked at him, realizing he was right. "Well, ok, but we're stealing some old junker. You're not taking some fancy new sports car."
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, luv."
Part 36, by Estepheia
If one stayed on well-lit streets, it was a bit more than half an hour's walk from the Magic Shop to Giles's appartment. Tara liked walking. It helped her think. As a child she had had to trek three miles in order to get to school, and back, in wind and weather, in cold and heat, because her folks had lived in the middle of nowhere. She had secretly enjoyed the hours she could spend away from home. Dawn, however, was complaining. She hated going anywhere on foot, unless one counted loitering about in shopping malls and looking at lipstick, shoes and jewelry as walking.
She was also peeved about the injustice of being 15 years old and the younger sister or a Slayer. "Why can't I come along? When Buffy was 15 she burnt down the gym of her school. If I did that Buffy would have me grounded till forever."
Tara had heard Dawns complaints before, but she remained patient. "If you care about someone, you want that person to be safe. I know Willow feels that way about me. She'd ... like really worry ... you know, if I did something dangerous. It's the same with Buffy. She just wants to protect you."
"Yeah well, it still sucks! What about me? I worry about HER, too. And I never know, if ... if she'll be alright!"
There was enough anguish in Dawn's voice to make Tara feel sorry for the girl. Perhaps it was really time to give Dawn something useful to learn. To enable her to contribute something to the Scoobie Gang. She gave Dawn a shy smile and suggested: "Why don't I teach you to do Tarot readings? Or would you prefer palmistry? I'm sure Buffy wouldn't mind. It's not like I would be teaching you spells or anything."
"Tarot? Cool! Would you really?
"I don't see why not. It would be really useful. I can explain the basics to you tonight. And tomorrow we will get you a deck from the Magic shop."
Dawn was visibly in a better mood now. There was a carefree bounce in her step and she already saw herself at the shop looking at the different Tarot decks she knew Giles stocked. When suddenly something occured to her.
"Tara?
"Yes?"
"How did the Council of Watchers know that Giles was missing?"
"They did?
"Yes, Anya said that the Council had called to find out which items Giles took when he left. They made her check the whole stock. But how did they know he had left?"
Tara frowned.
"Good question." she said.
***
When he regained consciousness Xander was cold, and his tongue felt like it needed a shave. *God, what a terrible furry taste! What a hangover!* Strong arms were cradling him, propping him upright in a sitting position. One hand was gripping his left shoulder, while the other hand was stroking his forehead and playing with his hair. He sighed contentedly without opening his eyes. He noticed a nice smell, lavender and something else. It seemed Anya used a new kind of scented soap.
*Anya?* Suddenly he realized that this could be no ordinary hangover, because he hadn't been drinking. And that chill he was feeling wasn't caused by the climate. He was leaning against a cold body, and the arms and hands that were holding him so gently were just as cold. This absence of body heat could only mean one thing.... *Vampire!*
Panic swept over him. He struggled, trying to break that chilling embrace, but was easily overpowered. "Hush, my boy, don't fret." a dreamy voice said. Xander recognized the English accent. This was Drusilla, Spikes insane ex. He was so not going to open his eyes. *no Sir!* If he didn't look at her, surely she couldn't hypnotize him, could she?
"I would have turned you, my little lamb, but the Knight of Swords has poured acid and poison into your veins. Wicked man. I met him long ago, I think. His tears tasted all salty, but I liked his eyes even more. He killed himself once, I wish he'd do it again. He wants to hurt me, you know. But Spike won't let him."
*Oh boy, this Lady MacFang is really quite unhinged. What's that about acid and poison?* Xander realized that she was referring to the tranquilizer the dart from Giles's gun had injected into his bloodstream. Sooner or later the drug would wear off, and then this lunatic vampire would drink his blood and possibly make him her minion, fledgeling or whatever it was these bloodsuckers called their offspring. *Not good!*
"Look at me, sweet boy."
Xander shook his head wildly, his eyes squeezed shut. No more hypnosis. Being Dracula's Renfield had been humiliating enough.
He felt Drusilla's hand stroking his hair. "Your heartbeat tells me all your little secrets. You are afraid. But you mustn't be. The night is beautiful, it will embrace you like a mother. My mother is dead, you know. They lay her in the cold ground. Angelus had to kill her. I'll kill yours for you, if you like?"
"No, thanks. I should really do that myself. But thanks for the kind offer. Listen, I so want to give dying and being turned a miss tonight. Why don't we talk about this again in say fifty years time?" He knew he was babbling. But he had no idea how to get out of this alive. *Anya!* He had to somehow convince the vampire to let him go. Anya needed him!
The stroking stopped. "Wouln't you be all old and wrinkly in fifty years? You are a naughty boy, trying to trick me. "Drusilla said quite lucidly. Then she giggled. He felt a cool hand gliding under his shirt and then a sharp fingernail scratched his chest, drawing blood.
Why was it, that he always attracted women of the weirdest kind? The giant praying mantis, the Inca Mummy, Cordelia (definitely weird in her self-centered way), an 11.000 year old ex-demon and now this utterly insane vampire? Eew! If he were turned would that mean he and Angel were to be relatives? And Spike would be his undead brother? Double eew!
*Wait! Hello, inspiration!*
"You don't want ME, you want Spike. You want him back? You shall have him."
And he looked straight into Drusilla's eyes. "With my help, you will have him back to loving you in no time."