Liquidram | The library was a two-story affair and considerably more modern than the one Simon reguarly visited in the city. He had no idea how to use the computer in the small kiosk inside the door, so had to ask a librarian where to find the newspapers. "Shit," he mumbled, slamming the cover on the microfiche box. Nothing. Grabbing his bag, he got up, stretched and yawned loudly, ignoring the dirty look from the guy studying across from him. Hungry, Simon left the library and walked off the campus, looking for a place where he might be able to trade a chore or two for a quick bite. There was a small deli across the street. Simon figured it was as good as any to ask, and he pushed the button at the crosswalk. While waiting for the light to change, he noticed a bright florescent sheet of paper, in easily the grossest shade of green. It was tacked on the pole with cheap postal tape. His attention piqued, Simon grabbed it, reading as he crossed the street toward what he hoped would be his first - and not only - meal of the day. |
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Anya was sweeping while Xander held the dustpan. A last few swipes and she stopped, shaking her head at Xander while she surveyed what was left of her store. She'd always been possessive of it, but now that Giles left her almost permanently in charge, she was determined to make it successful. Seeing Marcus climbing down from the loft, she glared at him again. She was not about to let him forget that she would bear a grudge until the Magic Box was back in one piece. Marcus stopped by the table, and reached over for his bag. Anya couldn't hear what he was saying to Giles, he spoke so softly. Anya noticed the young man seemed rather upset. Stiffly he shoved his few belongings back into his rucksack. Anya set her jaw and looked satisfied as she muttered, "Good. Now go far away from me and my shop." "An," she heard Xander say behind her. She turned and he kissed her on the nose. "It's okay," he added. "Mister Tall, Dark, and Bizarre is going to be leaving now." Buffy, standing near them, was obviously uncomfortable and watching Giles carefully. The older man appeared to be at ease with the stranger. Before she could speak, however, Tara signaled to her, drawing Buffy over to a quiet corner of the shop away from everyone else. "Buffy," Tara finally whispered. "I don't, uh, don't mean to tell you your business... b-b-but I don't think, I mean... I don't think he should go. I-I-I just think," she continued, "th-that no matter how far out of Sunnydale he got... he'd be back." "So what are you saying?" "There's... something I need to tell you, f-f-first," Tara replied. "Then... th-then you decide. And, and I think Willow should hear it, too," she added in a rush. "Giles and I are the only ones who know." "Know what?" Buffy's exasperated voice carried clearly to the rest of the shop. Marcus interrupted his discussion with Giles, and turned to look at her, along with Giles. Buffy glared at them both. She turned back to Tara, her voice lowered. "Okay. I'll listen." Tara's glance flickered in Marcus' direction, and Buffy caught her meaning. The Slayer projected her voice so she wouldn't have to repeat herself. "Giles, Willow, Tara, you're with me in the back. Spike, Xander, stay with Marcus until I come for you." "What about me?" Anya piped up. "If you've finished mooning over your lost profits, then join us." As Buffy turned away, Anya poked her tongue out, and then actually thought about her lost profits and grimaced. Sulking, she returned to the counter and began recording the day's damage. Marcus was still standing by the table, his expression wary. Spike had moved to flank him again. Buffy caught Marcus' expression and folded her arms, waiting. "I said I'd leave once Mr. Giles told me what he could," Marcus finally said, his voice catching slightly. "He has, and I'm going now." He tightened his grip on his rucksack. "No." Buffy's voice was flat, her eyes large in an otherwise impassive face. "I have questions, and you're not leaving until you've answered them." "I told as much as I know." "I don't believe you." The room was silent as six people held their breath as one, waiting. Tara winced slightly, reading the crackles of energy between Buffy and Marcus as if they were written in the air. Spike brought his hands up a bit, prepared for a fight. Xander kept his eyes trained on Buffy and didn't move, waiting for a signal. Finally, Marcus relaxed his grip on the rucksack. "And just what do you propose would make you believe me?" he offered, a sardonic tone creeping into his voice. "Don't make me repeat myself, for starters." She cocked her head at him, sarcastic. Marcus regarded her for another long moment before giving her a short formal nod that seemed more like an abbreviated bow. He seated himself in the nearest chair, stretching his legs almost insolently as he made himself comfortable. Buffy glanced at Xander and Spike, then headed for the training room. Giles and Willow followed. Tara didn't move immediately, though. To Spike's surprise, she stared at Marcus for a long breath before frowning to herself as she hurried to catch up with the others. Spike turned in satisfaction to Marcus, and sat down on the edge of the table. "Now, mate, you've got some questions to answer." "Do I." "That's right. Buffy may be holding off on asking her own questions..." Spike lit a cigarette, ignoring Anya's sputtering in the background. Spike leaned forward in Marcus' face, and leered. "But she didn't say we couldn't ask a few of our own." |
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Giles drew the curtain shut behind him, and went to sit on the battered old sofa. While Tara and Willow got comfortable on the floor, he flipped the envelope over several times in his hands before sticking it in his shirt pocket. Later, if I can, he promised himself, I shall have to have another talk with that young man. |
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"Fine. What would you like to know?" Marcus responded amicably. "For starters, why you'd mess with an old demon like Doc, and how you could've heard of him, but somehow miss the memo that he's been dead for months," Spike replied. "Also, what just decimated the shop. Why you stalk girls home. And why you switch accents like some people change clothes." Spike added, ticking the questions off on his fingers. "Speaking of which, by the way, you might think about introducing yours to some soap and water sometime soon." Spike wrinkled his nose. "This from someone who hasn't changed clothes since 1978?" Marcus retorted. "Right, William. Or do you prefer Mr. The Bloody?" Marcus snorted. "I always thought that vamps who used nicknames like that were compensating." Spike bristled. "And The Bloody?" Marcus continued, his tone vicious. "How long did it take you to think up that moniker? Tell the truth. You left off Wanker." "So that's how you want it, huh?" Spike snarled, throwing his cigarette to the floor and grinding it under his boot. Ignoring Anya's outraged gasp, he continued, "Respect your elders, boy. I've no problem teaching you the lesson." Spike took a step towards Marcus, his hands already forming fists, spoiling for a fight. "Start explaining or it's time for class." Anya slipped out from behind the counter and ran to Xander's side as Marcus uncoiled to his feet. Xander was startled by the vampire's hostile reaction. Glancing at Marcus, Xander watched Marcus' eyes narrow to slits, but otherwise appeared nonchalantly arrogant. Spike's ready to fight if Marcus so much as twitches, Xander thought. Chip or no chip. On the other hand, not sure I want to get between those two. Marcus stood his ground, appearing calm though inwardly he quaked. Please don't make me have to stake the Slayer's friend, Marcus grimly implored anything that might be listening, though I won't refuse a chance to teach him some manners. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, preparing for combat. "And you'll teach me what, how to be neutered? How to be a sloppy puppy, drooling after some bimbo with a stick?" "Don't you dare speak of the Slayer that way," Spike growled and took another step closer. Beside him, Xander frowned at Marcus' comment. Anya poked Xander. When he leaned towards her, she whispered, "When was the last time you saw Spike this mad?" Xander shrugged in response. Marcus was still taunting Spike. "Were you not aware what the underworld says about you? From what I hear, the consensus is that you're nothing but a de-fanged, sissified, bottle-blond pouf." Marcus wasn't sure what he planned to achieve by provoking the vampire, but a small part of him enjoyed being able to throw the attitude back in the vampire's face. He straightened his spine and raised an eyebrow at Spike, his expression cocky. Only a foot separated the combatants, as they stood almost chest-to-chest, daring each other to make the first move. The air prickled with tension. "Ok, now, that's enough," Xander waved his hands at the two glowering figures, as if surrendering. Still not putting my hand between them, he thought. "As much as I would like to watch you two pummel each other, I didn't bring my popcorn. Not to mention you're frightening my fiancée." "Frightening me? You think they are..." Anya trailed off, too angry to continue. "They're just two boys in a sandbox fighting over a girl. And though normally that's amusing, the sandbox happens to be my store." She turned on Marcus and Spike, including both of them in her irritation. Startled, Spike gave Anya an blandly innocent expression. She didn't fall for it. "You two are making fools of yourselves," Anya continued, and turned on Xander. "And you are the worst! You think they could frighten me. Harrumph!" Anya paused to give each culprit one more glare and flounced off to the back room. |
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Anya stormed into the room. "I think I got testosterone poisoning," she griped as she seated herself in an empty chair. Buffy glanced at Tara expectantly. The blonde witch raised her eyes to Giles, who sighed and nodded. Apparently satisfied, Tara began to speak. "The Hellmouth, the Slayer, and the Key are manifestations of metaphysical forces in the same way that atomic components such as the electron, proton and neutron are in the physical world. They are interactive, part of a greater whole, but also not the only forces in the universe." She paused to take a breath, unused to speaking without interruption amongst the Scoobies. "For example," she continued, "Scientists used to believe the atom couldn't be broken down into anything beyond the three sub-atomic particles. Now we know there are quarks, gluons, muons and plenty of other things. Witches have always known there's more than Einstein's four dimensions, but scientists are just now catching up with us. Essentially, the physical energies interact to maintain a balance and cohesion as the universe pulls itself in all directions in its continual expansion. What if the major forces represented by the Slayer, the Hellmouth and its progeny, and the Key, all interact in a similar albeit metaphysical way? And what if there are other smaller and larger forces that exert their own influence on the cosmic balance of our dimension?" Tara paused, and realized Buffy was staring at her blankly. "Wow. I feel smarter already," Anya said, impressed. "Can I get that order in plain English?" Buffy asked. Tara nodded, and bit her lip before beginning again. "I stumbled across it by accident... after, uh, you... were gone," Tara said, softly. "After your..." "You can say it, it's okay," Buffy replied gently. Tara nodded and gave Buffy a shy smile. "A month after your... death, Giles was preparing to return to England. Willow had withdrawn somewhat, since she..." Tara took a deep breath. "Anya was running the Magic Box. So I was the one to assist him in organizing and packing up his research materials. We were spending a great deal of time sorting through the ancient texts and Watchers' Diaries. Actually, Giles noticed it first," she added, looking at Giles. He looked up, surprised, and nodded vaguely, picking up the story from Tara. "I had continued to log the downsized patrols in my diaries, just out of habit," he said awkwardly. "Fact is, there really wasn't that much to record. A vamp here, a vamp there, but all generic and no other major demonic forces serious enough to cause any big problems. We had thought for certain that some larger evil would have rushed in to Sunnydale to take advantage of, of the... void." His breath caught, and he pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Tara took the hint and continued. "I, I had sensed a d-d-diminishment in the overall paraphysical energy of the town," she stated, rushing the last part of her sentence as she built up her nerve again. "I had concluded a long time ago that the Hellmouth generated a certain psychic energy that drew demonic forces to Sunnydale. That's - that's what I once thought brought me to town, back... wh-wh-when I believed I was part..." Willow reached out for Tara's hand and squeezed it in her own. Tara smiled at the handclasp, and swallowed hard. "Last year, the energy of the place continued to grow stronger as if building up to something ... big. But almost the instant you... died..." Tara exhaled. "I f-f-felt the energy dissipate... l-l-like the air suddenly escaping through a puncture in an enormous hot air balloon. The pull of the Hellmouth had ceased." |
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Marcus raised his eyebrows at the curtained doorway. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others had similar reactions. He knew curtains don't slam, yet Marcus could have sworn that curtain just did. After a second of silence passed, Marcus exchanged a rueful look with Spike before turning the chair around backwards and straddling it. Spike took a step back and leaned against the table, watching Marcus while he shook out a cigarette. "That's quite the woman you've got there," Marcus said off-handedly to Xander, glancing again at the curtain still vibrating from Anya's enraged departure. "Don't I know it," Xander said, proudly, as he took a seat. "What did she mean?" Marcus asked nonchalantly. I wonder how obvious I was around the Slayer. "Haven't the foggiest," Spike mumbled as he lit the cigarette, not quite meeting Marcus' eyes. I wonder if he can tell how I feel about her. "Hm." Marcus knotted his fingers and rested his chin on them. "Yeah." Spike said. "Deep," Xander observed. He shrugged in response to two needling glares. "So what's your gig?" Spike pulled a chair over to face Marcus and perched on the back with his feet upon the scarred wooden seat, his long black leather coat billowing around his legs. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, mate." He continued as Marcus opened his mouth to protest. "I saw the looks you two exchanged. Whatever was attacking you is going to get its sights on Buffy. And that isn't an option. So 'fess up. What do you want with her?" When Marcus didn't say anything, Spike leaned closer. "I know your power," he said in a menacing whisper. "But I can also smell your fear." Marcus' head came up, his eyes flashing. "And I, vampire," he retorted icily, "can smell your lust." They stared at each other for a long minute before the vampire shifted and looked away from him, apparently preoccupied with lighting a cigarette that was already lit. Marcus sighed to himself. He admired the vampire's honor and protectiveness, no matter what he'd claimed, and was reluctant to reward it with more lies. "I don't want anything from her," Marcus said bluntly. "I don't want to put anyone else in the middle of this. But I need answers about my father. And only Mr. Giles can help me." He added, admiration clear in his tone, "I realize I don't get his help without getting yours and Buffy's." "She doesn't need you, you know." Xander interjected. Spike and Marcus swiveled to look at him, as if suddenly remembering his presence. "What do you mean?" Marcus said, confused. "She's Buffy. She's complete. She... knows who she is and what she needs. And she doesn't need you." Marcus furrowed his brows, at a loss. Xander stood and paced a short while before answering. But the guy's got to know the lay of the land, he reminded himself, and no one else is jumping up to explain it. "Look, from what I can see, you're in trouble," Xander began. "You come running into Sunnydale, searching for answers but you find us. More importantly, you find her. Buffy has always been the focus in a room, drawing people's attention like, well, like bugs to a bug-zapper. Okay, terrible analogy," he acknowledged. "But the principle remains. Everywhere she goes and everything she does, you can't do anything but try and help any way you can. I have seen a lot in this world, admittedly mostly thanks to Buffy, and I have never seen anything else like her." Xander paused and thought of a dark-haired Slayer... then shook his head to stay focused. "That is, until you walked through that door. You're like her. And you know it. We can't be apathetic to your danger, not because it affects us... but because we want it to affect us. We don't know who or what you are but we want to help." Xander faced Marcus squarely, frowning slightly as he spoke. "You are drawing us in like Buffy did six years ago." Spike grunted his agreement, reluctantly admiring the clarity of Xander's speech. The bloody fool may have his faults but ignoring his heart isn't one of them, he thought. Xander sighed. "But all this isn't as important as what you might do to her," he continued in a rush. "It's no secret we have our differences, but there are people in this room who love her. Okay, somebody's love might be a bit baser than others," Xander glared at Spike, "but we do love her. If you want our help, then you owe it to us to leave her out of whatever's going on. We might have no choice but to help you, but she should. She's been through enough. Do I make myself clear?" "Absolutely." Marcus calmly replied, impressed despite himself. This awkward young man is more valuable than I realized, he reflected, if he's always this perceptive. Xander quickly ran through his rant in his mind. "Uh, did I say if you mess her up, we'll kill you in horrible and imaginative ways?" "Nooo... but I got the gist." |
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In the training room, Anya, Buffy, and Willow were listening intently. Buffy's mouth was open, and so was Willow's. One listened in fascination, the other in consternation that Tara hadn't told her at the time. Giles replaced his glasses and picked up the story from Tara. "I had a hunch," he said, "that prompted me to correlate my findings with the reports of past watchers. I enlisted Tara to help me. In short, between the two of us, we concluded that the Hellmouth was but one of a number of a family of demonic orifices distributed across the Earth, although Sunnydale's appeared to be the largest in geographic size and paranormal energy output. From the other Watchers' journals, read in conjunction with the more prophetic texts, it was clear that wherever there had been a major eruption of evil activity, there had also been a hellmouth." Giles sighed and leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands and his elbows on his knees before continuing. "Even more disturbing," he continued, "was our discovery that whenever one of these eruptions had occurred, a Slayer was subsequently dispatched to quell the disturbance. The demonic activity did not decrease, in fact, quite the opposite happened. In each instance, the Slayer's death corresponded with the sudden dormancy of activity, as if the balance in that area had been restored." Buffy's eyes were large as she glanced from Giles to Tara and back again. Her lips moved, but she didn't make a sound. Tara sighed sadly and continued. "I t-t-told Giles about my psychic... impressions. We concluded that the energy of the Hellmouth and the energy of the Slayer were symbiotic. The Slayer was drawn to the locus of the Hellmouth along with all manner of evil nasties like predator and prey animals to..." Tara's voice trailed off. "A big cosmic watering hole?" Anya offered helpfully. "As the Slayer vanquished each new monstrous foe," Tara said, nodding, "her own power grew as if nourished by the consumption of the demonic energies thus released. This only served to increase the magnetic pull of the Hellmouth to fill the void. A vicious cycle, but apparently a necessary one. The Hellmouth's power drew the demonic energy that when released from its corporal shell or other physical manifestation fed the Slayer's power that, in turn, amplified the Hellmouth. A perfect lightning rod ... a-a-a cosmic dance of good and evil, but very necessary. The Slayer-Hellmouth dance ensured that the evil could not spread across the globe, consequently preventing the other hellmouths from connecting and splitting the earthly mortal animal dimensions into fractions small enough to be overtaken by the forces of darkness." Tara exhaled again, shaking slightly. Willow put her arm around her lover, regret clear on her face. "Why didn't you tell me," she whispered. "I-I-I couldn't... you were..." Tara whispered back, tears suddenly forming in her eyes. Giles coughed quietly, and Buffy turned to look at him. With an understanding glance at Tara and Willow, he continued the explanation. "We were so caught up in our analysis of this new realization that we didn't stop to think about what effect the energy of the Key possibly exerted when thrown into the mix. Tara," and he nodded as she looked up at him, "intuited that the Key was a force radiating an energy quite different from that of the Slayer and the Hellmouth. It could draw both good and bad things in varying proportions depending on the state of the external environment and the stability of the physical form into which the key had been transformed." He stopped speaking, and Buffy swallowed hard, looking back at Tara. "But wouldn't..." Willow finally said in the silence. "Wouldn't this be moot since the Slayer was... gone?" Giles nodded. "Yes, and the Hellmouth was apparently dormant. So I returned to England..." Tara found her voice again, squeezing Willow's hand a second time. "B-b-but that was then, and now Buffy is back. The Hellmouth is showing signs that its dormancy is ending. Sunnydale is generating that strange magnetism again... only this time it's more intense and, and, somehow... more alien. The Slayer energy is changed somehow and that's impacting the balance... all of them together, Key, Slayer, and Hellmouth are the reason there's new and unfamiliar forces at play." Tara looked Buffy straight in the eyes. "And... that's why I think, no matter what we choose, Marcus will end up back in Sunnydale." "And that means..." Willow started to say. "So will whatever he's brought with him," Buffy concluded. |
~ continue to next chapter ~ | |