It was late in the evening on February the sixteenth, and Rupert was wondering why he bothered watching television at all when his doorbell rang. At last. He opened the front door and looked at his visitor standing tensely in the cold darkness. He spent a moment studing the pale, wary face in front of him before stepping aside.
"Come in."
"Thanks." Clutching a small canvas hold-all, Spike stepped into the warm light of Rupert's entrance hall.
Rupert shut the door on the night. "Drop your coat and bag and come in here." He went into the kitchen.
"What, no warm greeting?" asked Spike as he followed him. "I was Harris all the way over here. You've no idea how depressing that was."
Rupert snorted and opened the fridge door. "I've got in a supply," he said, pointing to the packets of blood. "I don't know how long you're going to be here so there's more in a fridge in the garage."
"Thanks." Spike took a packet and bit into it hungrily.
Rupert sat at the huge oak table and pointed to a chair opposite him. "Sit."
Spike sat down and they stared at each other.
"I'm assuming your chip is still working?" asked Rupert finally, his face stern.
Spike gave him a tense grin. "You bring me all the way over here and now you're asking?"
"Well, is it?"
"Dunno. Haven't tested it for ages."
"All right. I don't have to warn you - "
"No." Spike closed his eyes wearily. "No. I know."
"Right." Rupert sat back. "So why are you here?"
Spike studied his fingernails. "I think Mera might be able to give me something."
"Ah. What are you after?"
"I think she may be able to turn me."
"Turn you - "
"Into what she is."
"Good god!"
*
"I'd dismissed what you first wrote about Mera," said Spike. "Well, not dismissed as such - more like 'Oh, so there really are vampires that can walk in the sun. How nice for them.' But then when you sent that report about Path I remembered something - a really vague vamp legend about 'Siblings'. I heard it a long time ago, must have been shortly after I was turned, and when I remembered it the other day it really got me going."
"Why? Where did you hear it from?"
"Oh, there was this really old vamp I spent some time talking to once. She was this raggedy mop-doll of a girl, all wild hair and ribbons and wilted flowers - lived in a system of caves in France. Face like a bag of lemons. If I hadn't already met Dru I'd have thought this vamp was off her rocker. Full of stories, she was, well up on the old legends and myths - real 'Golden Bough' stuff, mostly about humans. But this Siblings one was about vampires, which is why I remembered it. More precisely, it was about the very first vampires. Interesting, eh?"
Rupert frowned slightly and Spike glanced at him.
"One of these Siblings," he continued. "Was a 'Sister' who 'Held in her hand the gift of the gentle sun'. Now, let me tell you, the words 'gentle sun' are bound to get a vamp thinking no matter how big a moron he is, and I thought about it quite a bit after I heard it. When I read your report about this 'vampire' who could wear crosses and walk in the sun, I thought quite hard and put two and two together.
"That's when I got excited - that 'gift' word - and asked you to bring me over. I thought this could be my chance to be something that...well, anyway." Spike shrugged.
"Let me see if I've got this right," said Rupert. "You had me bring you all the way over here on the very slight basis of a legend about a vampire who had the gift of - "
"No," said Spike. "Held. Held the gift in her hand. I always thought the wording was deliberate. If you hold something in your hand you can do whatever you like with it. You can put it on a shelf, or you can drop it, or bloody bury it…or you can give it to someone. I'm hoping she can give it to me." He put his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling. "But there's more. After I asked you to bring me over here, I went back to my crypt and thought about it again. I was sure - no, I knew you were talking about one of the Siblings but it was strange, y'know, 'cause something didn't fit."
Rupert shifted uncomfortably.
"It didn't fit, Rupert." Spike shot a look at him and spoke deliberately. "You see, the Siblings are triplets. Get that, Giles: triplets. Number One is the first vamp, an ordinary bugger like yours truly. Number Two is the sister with the gift, and I think we can safely call her Path, can't we? And Number Three? Well, that's interesting. Number Three kills Number One as soon as they meet."
"Well - "
Spike gave Rupert a calculating look. "Everything fitted except for that third Sibling. You wrote about twins. So someone'd got it badly wrong, or was lying, and you know what? I came to the conclusion that was you, mate."
Rupert shifted again. "Why?"
"Because when I thought you might be lying I tried to think of a reason why you'd do that, and pretty quickly I came up with a spectacular one, Watcher."
"I - "
"The Third kills The First," quoted Spike. "The Third Sibling's the bloody Slayer, ain't it? This head on my shoulders ain't just pretty, so don't lie to me, Giles."
Rupert gave up. "Then I won't," he said quietly.
Spike slumped in his seat. "Bloody hell."
"If you mention - "
"Oh, I'm not going to tell her. That's your job, mate."
"That's right."
"Yeah, and if you don't do it soon she's going to work it out on her own. I've seen her reading that report of yours, seen her frowning over it. She must have read it thirty times by now. And I know about those dreams - that run-in you lot had with the first Slayer. If you wanted to keep this from her you shouldn't have given us Mera's description of what Path looks like."
"I don't want to keep it from her."
"Well, you better tell her soon, that's all."
Rupert watched in silence as Spike got up and took another blood packet out of the fridge. He put it in the microwave and warmed it up.
"Got any beer?" the vampire asked when the microwave pinged.
"Yes."
"Good. Now I'm going to hear those tapes you made."
Rupert hesitated, then nodded and fetched the tapes from his desk in the study. He took Spike into the lounge. "Music centre's over there, and headphones. It's a long story though, and I'm quite tired-"
Spike looked around the room. "Yeah, well. You just leave me down here and go to bed. Where's my room, and - " he pointed to a large drinks cabinet. "Are the drinks cold in there?"
"Yes, there's a small fridge. Your room is third on the left at the top of the stairs."
"This place is just full of fridges. Right." Spike looked at Rupert pointedly. "'Night then."
"Yes, er- goodnight." Rupert left the lounge in a daze, amazed at how swiftly to this cocky vampire had apparently taken control. On the stairs he looked back through the lounge door and saw Spike crouched in front of the drinks cabinet with the fridge door open, looking at the cans of beer. Wondering what had just happened, Rupert continued up to his room.
*
Rupert left his bedroom door open when he went to sleep, reasoning that if Spike was going to go bad he'd have no trouble getting through a locked door. Therefore when he awoke the next morning he heard a loud and enthusiastic rendition of "Friggin' in the Riggin" rising above the sound of the shower in the guest bathroom.
He groaned, checked his throat and looked at his watch to find that most of the morning was gone. He dragged on some crumpled clothes and went downstairs to call Olivia. He had been keeping her up to date with all the developments, holding nothing back, thinking that it might for a time divert her thoughts, so this morning he told her about Spike's arrival and his reasons for coming.
They talked for a few minutes and then, hopelessly, he asked her when they would be able to see each other again. As he knew she would, she claimed a prior appointment - with her doctor or the hospital, or the bank, or any one of a large number of things that she simply had to deal with. He knew what she was doing; trying to separate herself from him and spare his feelings, and he was torn between wanting to be with her and respecting her unspoken wishes.
He said goodbye to her with a familiar ache in his chest.
*
Avoiding shafts of sunlight, Spike came into the kitchen as Rupert was eating his breakfast and reached across the sink to pull down the window blind and shut out the sun.
Rupert glanced at him. "Before you ask, there's Weetabix in the larder - and please keep the vile concoction that I know you're about to make out of my sight while I'm eating."
Spike grinned and made his breakfast. He placed his bowl on the table next to Rupert's plate and sat down, stirring the thick bloody mess in a way that made it slurp. With slow deliberation he filled a spoon, lifted it, and let the contents fall back into the bowl with a splat. Little dots of red appeared on the table top.
Rupert gagged and left the table to spit his last bite of breakfast into a piece of tissue. "There's no reasoning with you is there?"
"Oh, come on, Rupes. You've seen it before." Spike pursed his lips and sucked in a loud mouthful. He grinned at Rupert with red teeth. "Tell you what: you don't comment on my breakfast and I'll not mention your - " he studied the remains on Rupert's plate. "Very healthful fry-up. Yeah, with fried bread, too - how's your arteries, mate? Doing okay?"
"You keep your mind off my arteries." Rupert made himself some coffee. "I see you left an artistically overflowing ashtray in the lounge. I appreciate the stale air in there, by the way. Open a window next time."
"Prissy."
"Or you can stay in the garage," said Rupert with a smile. "Or perhaps I could buy a kennel. I know a pet shop - "
"All right, all right." Spike wiped blood off his chin. "From now on I'll tidy up and open windows."
"Thank you." Rupert left the kitchen.
There was a small television on the work-top and Spike turned it on and watched a few minutes of daytime television with a look of wonder on his face.
"What is this shit?" he demanded when Rupert returned. "Haven't you got satellite?"
"No."
"Bloody hell." Spike turned the television off. "When do I see Mera?"
"Tonight at her house - I've just called her. I'm going to Headquarters now and I'll be back after dark. I don't want to hang about tonight so if you go wandering don't go far."
"I won't. Are you going to tell them I'm here?"
"No. They'd kill you if they knew."
"Kill me? I thought this Quentin guy - "
"Not him. Others. You offend them. I can't imagine why."
"Oh yeah - thanks for that, mate. After all the help you've had from me." Spike put his bowl in the dishwasher. "Where's your computer?"
"In the study."
"Any games on it?"
"No."
"Typical."
*
Spike stood on Mera's doorstep and tried to see the immortal in the woman standing in front of him, but all he saw was a grinning face and bright, acquisitive eyes as she looked him up and down appreciatively and invited him in.
"He's heard the tapes I made," said Rupert.
"Oh yes?" said Mera, still staring at Spike. "And what did you think of 'em, sweetie?"
Never having been called 'Sweetie' before, Spike felt a little unbalanced. "Er, good," he said. "Yeah, they were good."
"Good," mimicked Rupert as they entered Mera's lounge. "You listened to a sweeping story that runs the length and breadth of human history and all you can say - "
"Oh, Rupert," interrupted Mera. "Shut up and get some beers from the kitchen, would you? Take your time." She waved Spike to a chair. "Like an old woman he is, sometimes."
Rupert snorted and left the room.
"So." Mera looked at Spike. "What's your question?"
*
Rupert entered the lounge to find Mera sitting on the sofa with her eyes wide and her mouth open.
"You want me to try to turn you?" she asked slowly, stunned.
Rupert smiled.
"Yeah." Spike sat on the edge of his chair. "Is it possible?"
"Christ, I don't know!" Mera stood up and started pacing. "That was the last thing I expected. It wasn't even on the list!" She turned to Spike. "And you got this idea from the legend? Just because of the word 'gift'? Oh, lad. That's a hell of a long arm you're reaching with."
"Don't I know it." Spike was earnest. "But it's not - it's not totally impossible, is it?"
"Whooo, bloody hell!" Mera dropped onto the sofa again. "Um - I'll have to think."
"Congratulations, Spike," said Rupert. "That's the first time I've seen her fuzzled. Trust you to accomplish it."
"I don't have an evil demon, you know," said Mera to Spike. "You do. You needed an invite to come in here, which tells me your demon is still alive and well even though you don't behave as if it is. It's a problem."
"Oh yeah," said Spike. "It's still there. Live an' kicking." Feeling that the name 'Sweetie' had diminished him somewhat, he felt a need to remind her of what he was. "I can still cause mayhem if I want to." He pushed out his chin with a cocky smirk. "If I could bite you, love, I probably would."
"Don't be an idiot," snapped Rupert. "If you want Mera to try this, cut out the bad-boy rubbish."
"Yes." Mera looked hard at Spike's face. "You're a pesky one, aren't you? But I'm peskier, so watch it."
Suddenly acutely aware of how stupid it would be to alienate this woman, Spike backtracked fast. "Sorry. Habit."
"Yes, I think everything about you is habit. C'mere." Mera patted the sofa. Spike sat beside her and she grabbed his face in her hands. "What a pretty face. Now stay silent." She closed her eyes. "I'm not as good at this as Path is."
Spike looked at Rupert from the corner of his eye, but the Watcher was staring at Mera.
After several minutes Mera let Spike go. "I thought as much. You know what people are feeling, don't you? You know their emotions."
"Er, well," said Spike, a little surprised. "I - yeah, I suppose. It don't work with me, though. Took years to find out what was going on in my head."
Mera looked away with a little smile. "So that's why you didn't leave," she said quietly.
Rupert frowned. "Leave what?"
"Never mind." Mera turned to Spike. "You, my pretty one, are an empath."
"Er - yeah?"
"Yes. It explains everything. This is good."
Rupert stared at Spike. "Good lord. Why didn't I see that?"
"Because when you looked at him all you were expecting to see was a vampire. You saw no reason to look further." Mera sat back. "Well, this is interesting. Empathic vampire with shackled demon, wants to lose same demon and walk in sun."
"Lose my demon?" Spike was startled.
"Well, yes love, of course. You don't think I'd even consider doing this if you were going to keep it, do you? Don't you want to lose it?"
"No, no, that's not what I meant. Is it possible? Lose the demon?" It was Spike's turn to stand up and start pacing. "All I was thinking was it'd be good if I could sit in the sun with - er, and not burst into flames. But if I could lose my demon - god!" He looked around wildly.
At last, Rupert realised Spike's motivation. "This isn't about you, is it?" he demanded. "This is about Buffy."
"Of course it's about Buffy," said Mera, smiling. "Greatest motivation of all for this particular vampire. Ain't it, sweet thing?"
Spike stared at her with wide eyes and she realised that the voice of calm was needed. "Careful, love," she said quietly. "We don't even know if there's a way. Don't you go getting all het-up. Not at this stage"
Spike chewed his lip.
"You hear me?" Mera asked. "I suggest you go home and read something boring. Rupert and I will confer. All right?"
Spike nodded and left without another word. Rupert and Mera looked at each other.
"Do you think it's possible?" asked Rupert.
"I'll talk with Path. But that's not what I want to 'confer' with you about."
"Oh?"
Mera took a deep breath. "Now, I don't want you to fly off the handle, all right? I want you to think, as calmly as you can. I want you to take your time and look at it rationally."
"All right." Rupert was mystified.
Mera stood up and faced him. "Path and I have considered this ever since you were called as a Watcher. It's mainly why I contacted you when you came back to England. We've been aware of you for years. We watched you panic over your calling and descend into darkness and we watched you overcome it and come back up stronger, a lot like the Slayer has."
Rupert felt a little cold. "How did you - watch?"
"As I told you before, we feel things. If it's anything big concerning the Three, we feel it. It comes of being so close to the - the source, if you like. Path's source. Our source. There aren't any thousands of years between us and the Demon. There's Path, and me. It's strong, and you are connected to one of the Three. We're always aware of Watchers but when you were called you stood out like a beacon."
"All right." Rupert suddenly knew what she was about to say and felt even colder. "What is it you want?"
"It's time to extend the family. Spike has already offered himself. If we find a way, I think he'll make a fine addition."
Rupert held his breath, tensing up.
Mera swallowed. "We offer it to you," she said quickly. "Unlike vampires, you get a choice."
*
Dear Willow, Buffy, et al.
Just a quick word to help straighten my mind out. It's all very amazing.
We know Spike's reasons now - he wants Mera to turn him. He wants to be like her, whatever that is. If you think about it, Buffy, his motivation is obvious. Mera is going to talk to Path about it. She says he's an empath, which actually makes a lot of sense. She also says he has to lose his demon but I don't know if that's possible without killing him. This is utterly unique, never been done before.
Bit dizzy at the moment, sorry for the shortness. Anyway, I'll keep you informed as always.
Love to you all,
Giles.
*
"Sounds like Giles is on overload." Buffy was in Willow's room. "And Spike wants to be like Mera! God, I wasn't expecting that one."
Willow took the message and read it again. Then she put it down and frowned at Buffy, her mind working very fast.
Buffy began to squirm uncomfortably. "What?"
"An empath," said Willow. "He's an empath. Buffy - he knows what we're feeling…"
"Yes, I - "
"He knows what you're feeling," said Willow seriously. "When you rejected him and we were all so horrid to him - Buffy, he wouldn't go away - "
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that any other man, or vampire, would have packed his bags and left. Spike didn't." Willow's eyes bored into Buffy's. "Why do you think that is?"
"I don't have a clue."
"Yeah, right."
"I don't!"
"Do you miss him?" Willow asked slyly.
"No! Well, yeah, a bit. I mean - he's missing, isn't he? He was always around and now he's not. I don't get it, Will. What are you - "
"This thing he wants Mera to do," interrupted Willow. "It may kill him, you know. We may never see him again." She kept her eyes on Buffy. "Ever."
Willow watched her friend think about that. A faint look of surprise appeared on Buffy's face and she became very still.
"What are you doing, Will?" Buffy demanded suddenly.
Willow turned to her computer and switched it off. "You need to think, Buffy."
"About what?"
"About the fact that Spike's always known what you're feeling. And about
the fact that he refused to give up. And when you've done that, ask yourself
this: What Do I Want?"
