Part 37, by MARCEE
"I say we just take the Metro," Buffy said.
They were wandering around Sunnydale Chevy Town arguing about which car to 'nick'. Buffy was standing next to a fairly ugly green Metro with her arms crossed stubbornly across her chest. She was tapping her foot.
"But luv," Spike said pleadingly, "the Corvette has tinted windows! Tinted windows!" He was leaning down and peering into the front seat of the yellow car. "You know...bright. Hot. Sun. - Cold. Dead. Vampire." He squatted to inspect the rims.
"Spike! I already told you - stealing cars is not a... Slayer-y thing to do. I'm really not happy about this, but if we have to do it, we're taking something...cheapish." She presented the Metro. "And tomorrow night, we're returning it."
Spike walked around the front of the Corvette, eyeing it greedily and looked up at Buffy.
"Unless you'd like to roast marshmallows over a flaming driver, Slayer, we're taking the 'Vette."
Buffy glanced at the sky, noting the arrival of sunrise. She began to wonder if any of the others had luck finding Giles. "Whatever Spike, let's just go."
They took the Corvette.
***
"This situation does not make me happy, Giles." Anya wasn't scared...yet. She was just extraordinarly irritated. She was tied to a chair in the middle of an apartment she didn't recognize and it looked like Giles was preparing a spell. This was not good at all. And to make matters worse, he wasn't even talking to her...yet.
"Giles, answer me."
Nothing.
"Giles, I know you're...you're not yourself. But it's me! You know me! You're not going to kill me are you? I was just getting the hang of this human stuff. Even Xander said I was - I didn't even mention disrobing on the internet to any of you. Giles, you trust me. You left me in charge of your store. I could have taken your money and moved to Africa. But I didn't. You're kind to me - well, most of the time."
Giles was scurrying in and out of rooms carrying random items back and forth. Anya recognized some of the items (from the shop). Others were new to her. He was ignoring her.
"Giles! Pay attention. When I'm talking, you're supposed to be listening. I don't think you're listening."
"Halten sie den Mund!" shut up! Giles interrupted. He was still readying supplies.
"I will not!" Anya shouted. "I can talk. I like to talk. Why can't I talk if I want to?"
Giles continued ignoring her.
"Lassen Sie mich gehen," let me go Anya said.
At this, Giles looked up. "Bald," soon he said, "Bald, Emma."
***
Buffy was surprised at how comfortable leather bucket seats could be. She started fidgeting with the instruments on the dashboard. The air goes hot, the air goes cold, the windows go up, the windows go down, the seat goes forward, the seat goes back, the radio goes on, the radio -
"Buffy! Stop it, will you," Spike slapped her hands away from the stereo.
"Spike, I'm nervous."
"I know you're worried about Giles, but he can handle himself," Spike said as he glanced in the rearview mirror and changed lanes.
"That's what I'm nervous about," Buffy said, "he's not himself."
They got back to Giles' apartment. Spike ran in with his coat over his head (just in case). Tara and Dawn were already there. They were sitting on the floor with scraps of paper spread out between them. "Anything?" Dawn asked as she looked up at Buffy.
Buffy shook her head. "I was hoping Xander and Anya might have had some luck."
"We haven't heard anything from them yet," Tara said. "I was starting to get worried; and I really want to go check on Willow."
The sun was almost up - Giles was still missing - and now, it seems, Xander and Anya are MIA as well.
"Where did the trail lead you guys?" Dawn asked.
"We circled the cemetery a few times and then the trail doubled back to the one we saw on the road - we actually found an apartment," Buffy answered.
"Giles had another apartment," Dawn asked.
"Looks like he does now," Buffy answered, "Anyway, it was nearing sunrise and the trail from the apartment led back into town; we figured Xander and Anya were already on that route - so we decided to head back here." Buffy intentionally left out the part about Spike recognizing Dru's presence along Giles' trail in the cemetery. She was growing more concerned with every passing minute. "Spike, you stay here with Dawn and wait for Xander and Anya; Tara and I will head back to the Magic Shop to get Willow. If you hear anything, call us at the shop." Spike nodded.
"Wow, nice car," Tara said as they stepped outside.
"Yeah, too bad I can't drive."
Tara smirked, "Good thing I can."
***
Part 38, by Estepheia
The boy in her arms was nice and warm. Drusilla could smell his fear and she sampled his scent, like a conossoir samples the bouquet of an exquisite wine. His rapidly beating heart was like music, putting an extra spring into her movements. She felt like opening his veins and raising him above her head, so she could dance in a rain of blood, but he had said something about helping her win back Spike's love and devotion.
The boy had been too weak to walk, so she had swept him up, like a bridegroom would sweep up his bride to carry her over the threshold. He had struggled, so, she had given him just a tiny weeny squeeze and he had yelped and surrendered.
Even though Sunnydale High Street was deserted at this hour, Drusilla knew instinctively that she needed a more sheltered place to question this human further. Dawn was approaching. The sky was already turning grey. So, she hurried back towards Spike's crypt, slowing down only once she reached the cemetery.
"You can let me down now," the boy said, struggling against her grip. "I can walk again."
Yes, the poisonous smell of his blood had indeed abated. She set him on his feet. "Can you dance, too, my little Page of Pentacles?"
"Huh? Tentacles?" the boy asked.
"Come dance with me," Drusilla cooed and pulled him into a kind of embrace. She swayed to music only she could hear, and it didn't matter that her dancing partner was almost as limp as a puppet when she swept him around in dizzying circles. She really loved dancing on graves. She treated the headstones as other dancers, nodding at them, sometimes flirtatiously calling out names from the inscriptions. And when she felt a chill, the presence of something colder than even her undead body, she laughed happily, because she had always loved the touch of lingering ghosts.
Soon Spike would be in her arms again. The mere thought filled her with elation. She felt like celebrating the occasion with a little murder and mayhem. Well, she could always slash and rend and tear and rip and gut the boy's flesh when he had divulged all his secrets.
***
"What's that then?" Spike asked and picked up a few pieces of paper. "The Chariot, The Hermit," he read aloud. "So, Tara is teaching you about Tarot?"
"Yes, and tomorrow I'll get my own deck." Dawn answered. Her eyes shone with exitement and pride.
"Tomorrow? It's morning already and you are going to sleep now."
"But I'm not tired," Dawn protested.
"You'd be a lot more convincing if you hadn't yawned twice in the last minute," the vampire said with a smile.
Dawn made a face. She wasn't going to admit it, but she was indeed tired.
A quarter of an hour later, when Spike checked on her, she was already fast asleep. Another five minutes later the vampire had unearthed Giles's secret supply of single malt and settled down on the sofa. He opened the Watcher's jounal and began to read.
***
Part 39, by William the Bloody
Buffy and Tara were rapidly approaching the magic shop. The sun was coming up, and the tracer lines of Willow's spell were finally beginning to fade. Tara pulled the car up in front of the magic shop. Both women got out of the car and approached the shop door, Buffy pulling out keys to unlock the door.
As she opened the door, Buffy was horrified to find Willow passed out on the floor on the shop. Buffy ran over to Willow, with Tara following quickly behind.
"Oh god, something's happened! We shouldn't have left her here alone!" Buffy began to panic.
Tara calmly knelt next to her unconscious lover and pulled her into her arms. "It's ok, Buffy. She's just exhausted from keeping the locator spell going all night. I could never have held the spell that long." She gazed down at Willow, asleep in her arms. When Willow had started gaining so much power, it had scared Tara, but now, Tara was only amazed and proud of how strong Willow had become. "We should get her home. She needs her sleep. Somewhere not on the shop floor."
Buffy thought for a minute. "I don't want the two of you going home. We don't know what's happened to Xander or Anya. I don't want anyone else turning up missing. We'll all go back to Giles' place, and stay there until I figure out what we're doing next."
Tara agreed. Buffy carried Willow out to the car. "Ok. Spike really could have picked out something a little roomier." Buffy managed to crowd herself and Willow into the car, and Tara got back in the driver's seat and headed back to Giles'.
Willow was still unconscious when they got back to the apartment. "Tara, are you sure she's ok?"
"I'm sure." Tara smiled over at Buffy. "I... can tell when something's wrong." Ever since Willow had pulled her Tara's mind back from Glory, the two witches had had some kind of constant mental connection. The only thing that had kept Tara calm through the previous night was the fact that she'd been able to sense Willow the whole time, had known that Willow was fine.
Buffy carried Willow into the apartment. Spike was asleep on the sofa, with the old Watcher's Journal open on his chest. Buffy smiled a bit as she carried Willow into Giles' room. Buffy left Tara to sit with Willow, pulling the door of the bedroom shut on her way out, and then went to check on Dawn.
When she was sure that Dawn was fine, Buffy went back into the living room. She lifted the journal off of the sleeping vampire and set the book aside on the coffee table. She sat gently on the edge of sofa, being careful not to wake Spike. She smiled down at him. It was hard to believe that he had been her enemy and that she had hated him. He was being such a great help to her now, and hate was definitely not what she was feeling as she watched his sleeping face. She knew she should head off to the other guest bedroom and get some sleep herself, but she couldn't pull herself away from where she sat. Spike opened his eyes and found Buffy staring down at him. "Hello, cutie", he said sleepily.
"Oh, sorry Spike, I didn't mean to wake you."
"Not a problem, luv. But you should be getting some sleep yourself. You've been up all night too."
"I know", she said, but made no move to leave. Spike was a bit confused, but also pleased by the way she was looking at him. He rolled over onto his side and pulled himself against the back of the sofa to make more room for her. He looked up at her hopefully. She sighed and lay down on the edge of the sofa, her back against Spike. It was a tight fit, and she thought she was going to fall off the edge if she so much as moved, but he wrapped a strong arm around her, and held her. She smiled at the feel of his arm around her. He buried his face in her hair, and enjoyed the feel and smell of her. He couldn't remember ever having been as happy as he was just having her close. She fell asleep in the comfort of his arms, and he kissed her gently on the cheek before allowing himself to drift back into a contented sleep.
***
Part 40, by MARCEE
Dawn muffled her giggles with the blanket she had wrapped around her.
It was a little past noon when she woke in unfamiliar surroundings and it took almost a full minute for her to remember that she was camping out in Giles' apartment. The place was silent; she wondered if the rest of the Scoobies had left her to fend for herself. She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and padded quietly out of the room and across the hall. She slowly pushed open the master bedroom door and peered inside. She was relieved to see Willow and Tara sleeping soundly in each others' arms. *They look so cute* Dawn smiled. She wandered carefully down the stairs and into the living room, where she now stood, trying to keep her amusement hidden.
Spike heard the suppressed snickering and cracked open one eye. Dawn, with her blanket covering her mouth, stood before him wide-eyed. Spike grinned. Buffy's breathing remained slow and steady; he was careful not to wake her when he put his finger to his lips. Dawn smiled, gave him the thumbs up sign, and proceeded into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of milk.
***
"Emma? Who's Emma?" Anya asked the Watcher.
He stopped what he was working on, smiled at Anya, and walked over to the small table by the door. He searched it. Around it. Under it.
He paused a moment to look back at Anya, then at the table again.
He looked confused.
He looked irritated.
Okay, he looked downright pissed off.
"What?" Anya asked, looking back at him over her shoulder
The Watcher threw the table lamp on the floor, then he threw the table. He was yelling and cursing in German...Anya only picked up a few of the multitude of expletives he was spouting.
"You're mad," she stated. She meant both meanings of the word.
"Wo ist es?" (Where is it?) he screamed. " Was haben Sie damit gemacht?" (What did you do with it?)
"What are you talking about?" Anya screamed in reply.
"Das Bild? Ich brauche es! Und wo ist mein Tagebuch? Was haben Sie damit gemacht?" (The picture? I need it! And where is my journal? What did you do with it?) He screamed, stalking toward Anya.
"What picture? What do you think I did with it? Okay, right. I untied myself. I stole the picture. Hid it. Then, instead of escaping, I sat back down in this chair and tied myself up again with all these fancy knots - and all this in the three minutes you spent in your bedroom," she said smiling.
"That was sarcasm," she stated, extremely pleased with herself, "Xander taught me about sarcasm."
"No picture. No ritual," the Watcher hissed.
"Well, that's good then. I don't want a ritual..." she paused a moment, "do I?"
"I say we just take the Metro," Buffy said.
They were wandering around Sunnydale Chevy Town arguing about which car to 'nick'. Buffy was standing next to a fairly ugly green Metro with her arms crossed stubbornly across her chest. She was tapping her foot.
"But luv," Spike said pleadingly, "the Corvette has tinted windows! Tinted windows!" He was leaning down and peering into the front seat of the yellow car. "You know...bright. Hot. Sun. - Cold. Dead. Vampire." He squatted to inspect the rims.
"Spike! I already told you - stealing cars is not a... Slayer-y thing to do. I'm really not happy about this, but if we have to do it, we're taking something...cheapish." She presented the Metro. "And tomorrow night, we're returning it."
Spike walked around the front of the Corvette, eyeing it greedily and looked up at Buffy.
"Unless you'd like to roast marshmallows over a flaming driver, Slayer, we're taking the 'Vette."
Buffy glanced at the sky, noting the arrival of sunrise. She began to wonder if any of the others had luck finding Giles. "Whatever Spike, let's just go."
They took the Corvette.
***
"This situation does not make me happy, Giles." Anya wasn't scared...yet. She was just extraordinarly irritated. She was tied to a chair in the middle of an apartment she didn't recognize and it looked like Giles was preparing a spell. This was not good at all. And to make matters worse, he wasn't even talking to her...yet.
"Giles, answer me."
Nothing.
"Giles, I know you're...you're not yourself. But it's me! You know me! You're not going to kill me are you? I was just getting the hang of this human stuff. Even Xander said I was - I didn't even mention disrobing on the internet to any of you. Giles, you trust me. You left me in charge of your store. I could have taken your money and moved to Africa. But I didn't. You're kind to me - well, most of the time."
Giles was scurrying in and out of rooms carrying random items back and forth. Anya recognized some of the items (from the shop). Others were new to her. He was ignoring her.
"Giles! Pay attention. When I'm talking, you're supposed to be listening. I don't think you're listening."
"Halten sie den Mund!" shut up! Giles interrupted. He was still readying supplies.
"I will not!" Anya shouted. "I can talk. I like to talk. Why can't I talk if I want to?"
Giles continued ignoring her.
"Lassen Sie mich gehen," let me go Anya said.
At this, Giles looked up. "Bald," soon he said, "Bald, Emma."
***
Buffy was surprised at how comfortable leather bucket seats could be. She started fidgeting with the instruments on the dashboard. The air goes hot, the air goes cold, the windows go up, the windows go down, the seat goes forward, the seat goes back, the radio goes on, the radio -
"Buffy! Stop it, will you," Spike slapped her hands away from the stereo.
"Spike, I'm nervous."
"I know you're worried about Giles, but he can handle himself," Spike said as he glanced in the rearview mirror and changed lanes.
"That's what I'm nervous about," Buffy said, "he's not himself."
They got back to Giles' apartment. Spike ran in with his coat over his head (just in case). Tara and Dawn were already there. They were sitting on the floor with scraps of paper spread out between them. "Anything?" Dawn asked as she looked up at Buffy.
Buffy shook her head. "I was hoping Xander and Anya might have had some luck."
"We haven't heard anything from them yet," Tara said. "I was starting to get worried; and I really want to go check on Willow."
The sun was almost up - Giles was still missing - and now, it seems, Xander and Anya are MIA as well.
"Where did the trail lead you guys?" Dawn asked.
"We circled the cemetery a few times and then the trail doubled back to the one we saw on the road - we actually found an apartment," Buffy answered.
"Giles had another apartment," Dawn asked.
"Looks like he does now," Buffy answered, "Anyway, it was nearing sunrise and the trail from the apartment led back into town; we figured Xander and Anya were already on that route - so we decided to head back here." Buffy intentionally left out the part about Spike recognizing Dru's presence along Giles' trail in the cemetery. She was growing more concerned with every passing minute. "Spike, you stay here with Dawn and wait for Xander and Anya; Tara and I will head back to the Magic Shop to get Willow. If you hear anything, call us at the shop." Spike nodded.
"Wow, nice car," Tara said as they stepped outside.
"Yeah, too bad I can't drive."
Tara smirked, "Good thing I can."
***
Part 38, by Estepheia
The boy in her arms was nice and warm. Drusilla could smell his fear and she sampled his scent, like a conossoir samples the bouquet of an exquisite wine. His rapidly beating heart was like music, putting an extra spring into her movements. She felt like opening his veins and raising him above her head, so she could dance in a rain of blood, but he had said something about helping her win back Spike's love and devotion.
The boy had been too weak to walk, so she had swept him up, like a bridegroom would sweep up his bride to carry her over the threshold. He had struggled, so, she had given him just a tiny weeny squeeze and he had yelped and surrendered.
Even though Sunnydale High Street was deserted at this hour, Drusilla knew instinctively that she needed a more sheltered place to question this human further. Dawn was approaching. The sky was already turning grey. So, she hurried back towards Spike's crypt, slowing down only once she reached the cemetery.
"You can let me down now," the boy said, struggling against her grip. "I can walk again."
Yes, the poisonous smell of his blood had indeed abated. She set him on his feet. "Can you dance, too, my little Page of Pentacles?"
"Huh? Tentacles?" the boy asked.
"Come dance with me," Drusilla cooed and pulled him into a kind of embrace. She swayed to music only she could hear, and it didn't matter that her dancing partner was almost as limp as a puppet when she swept him around in dizzying circles. She really loved dancing on graves. She treated the headstones as other dancers, nodding at them, sometimes flirtatiously calling out names from the inscriptions. And when she felt a chill, the presence of something colder than even her undead body, she laughed happily, because she had always loved the touch of lingering ghosts.
Soon Spike would be in her arms again. The mere thought filled her with elation. She felt like celebrating the occasion with a little murder and mayhem. Well, she could always slash and rend and tear and rip and gut the boy's flesh when he had divulged all his secrets.
***
"What's that then?" Spike asked and picked up a few pieces of paper. "The Chariot, The Hermit," he read aloud. "So, Tara is teaching you about Tarot?"
"Yes, and tomorrow I'll get my own deck." Dawn answered. Her eyes shone with exitement and pride.
"Tomorrow? It's morning already and you are going to sleep now."
"But I'm not tired," Dawn protested.
"You'd be a lot more convincing if you hadn't yawned twice in the last minute," the vampire said with a smile.
Dawn made a face. She wasn't going to admit it, but she was indeed tired.
A quarter of an hour later, when Spike checked on her, she was already fast asleep. Another five minutes later the vampire had unearthed Giles's secret supply of single malt and settled down on the sofa. He opened the Watcher's jounal and began to read.
***
Part 39, by William the Bloody
Buffy and Tara were rapidly approaching the magic shop. The sun was coming up, and the tracer lines of Willow's spell were finally beginning to fade. Tara pulled the car up in front of the magic shop. Both women got out of the car and approached the shop door, Buffy pulling out keys to unlock the door.
As she opened the door, Buffy was horrified to find Willow passed out on the floor on the shop. Buffy ran over to Willow, with Tara following quickly behind.
"Oh god, something's happened! We shouldn't have left her here alone!" Buffy began to panic.
Tara calmly knelt next to her unconscious lover and pulled her into her arms. "It's ok, Buffy. She's just exhausted from keeping the locator spell going all night. I could never have held the spell that long." She gazed down at Willow, asleep in her arms. When Willow had started gaining so much power, it had scared Tara, but now, Tara was only amazed and proud of how strong Willow had become. "We should get her home. She needs her sleep. Somewhere not on the shop floor."
Buffy thought for a minute. "I don't want the two of you going home. We don't know what's happened to Xander or Anya. I don't want anyone else turning up missing. We'll all go back to Giles' place, and stay there until I figure out what we're doing next."
Tara agreed. Buffy carried Willow out to the car. "Ok. Spike really could have picked out something a little roomier." Buffy managed to crowd herself and Willow into the car, and Tara got back in the driver's seat and headed back to Giles'.
Willow was still unconscious when they got back to the apartment. "Tara, are you sure she's ok?"
"I'm sure." Tara smiled over at Buffy. "I... can tell when something's wrong." Ever since Willow had pulled her Tara's mind back from Glory, the two witches had had some kind of constant mental connection. The only thing that had kept Tara calm through the previous night was the fact that she'd been able to sense Willow the whole time, had known that Willow was fine.
Buffy carried Willow into the apartment. Spike was asleep on the sofa, with the old Watcher's Journal open on his chest. Buffy smiled a bit as she carried Willow into Giles' room. Buffy left Tara to sit with Willow, pulling the door of the bedroom shut on her way out, and then went to check on Dawn.
When she was sure that Dawn was fine, Buffy went back into the living room. She lifted the journal off of the sleeping vampire and set the book aside on the coffee table. She sat gently on the edge of sofa, being careful not to wake Spike. She smiled down at him. It was hard to believe that he had been her enemy and that she had hated him. He was being such a great help to her now, and hate was definitely not what she was feeling as she watched his sleeping face. She knew she should head off to the other guest bedroom and get some sleep herself, but she couldn't pull herself away from where she sat. Spike opened his eyes and found Buffy staring down at him. "Hello, cutie", he said sleepily.
"Oh, sorry Spike, I didn't mean to wake you."
"Not a problem, luv. But you should be getting some sleep yourself. You've been up all night too."
"I know", she said, but made no move to leave. Spike was a bit confused, but also pleased by the way she was looking at him. He rolled over onto his side and pulled himself against the back of the sofa to make more room for her. He looked up at her hopefully. She sighed and lay down on the edge of the sofa, her back against Spike. It was a tight fit, and she thought she was going to fall off the edge if she so much as moved, but he wrapped a strong arm around her, and held her. She smiled at the feel of his arm around her. He buried his face in her hair, and enjoyed the feel and smell of her. He couldn't remember ever having been as happy as he was just having her close. She fell asleep in the comfort of his arms, and he kissed her gently on the cheek before allowing himself to drift back into a contented sleep.
***
Part 40, by MARCEE
Dawn muffled her giggles with the blanket she had wrapped around her.
It was a little past noon when she woke in unfamiliar surroundings and it took almost a full minute for her to remember that she was camping out in Giles' apartment. The place was silent; she wondered if the rest of the Scoobies had left her to fend for herself. She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and padded quietly out of the room and across the hall. She slowly pushed open the master bedroom door and peered inside. She was relieved to see Willow and Tara sleeping soundly in each others' arms. *They look so cute* Dawn smiled. She wandered carefully down the stairs and into the living room, where she now stood, trying to keep her amusement hidden.
Spike heard the suppressed snickering and cracked open one eye. Dawn, with her blanket covering her mouth, stood before him wide-eyed. Spike grinned. Buffy's breathing remained slow and steady; he was careful not to wake her when he put his finger to his lips. Dawn smiled, gave him the thumbs up sign, and proceeded into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of milk.
***
"Emma? Who's Emma?" Anya asked the Watcher.
He stopped what he was working on, smiled at Anya, and walked over to the small table by the door. He searched it. Around it. Under it.
He paused a moment to look back at Anya, then at the table again.
He looked confused.
He looked irritated.
Okay, he looked downright pissed off.
"What?" Anya asked, looking back at him over her shoulder
The Watcher threw the table lamp on the floor, then he threw the table. He was yelling and cursing in German...Anya only picked up a few of the multitude of expletives he was spouting.
"You're mad," she stated. She meant both meanings of the word.
"Wo ist es?" (Where is it?) he screamed. " Was haben Sie damit gemacht?" (What did you do with it?)
"What are you talking about?" Anya screamed in reply.
"Das Bild? Ich brauche es! Und wo ist mein Tagebuch? Was haben Sie damit gemacht?" (The picture? I need it! And where is my journal? What did you do with it?) He screamed, stalking toward Anya.
"What picture? What do you think I did with it? Okay, right. I untied myself. I stole the picture. Hid it. Then, instead of escaping, I sat back down in this chair and tied myself up again with all these fancy knots - and all this in the three minutes you spent in your bedroom," she said smiling.
"That was sarcasm," she stated, extremely pleased with herself, "Xander taught me about sarcasm."
"No picture. No ritual," the Watcher hissed.
"Well, that's good then. I don't want a ritual..." she paused a moment, "do I?"