11.
Buffy peered through the round glass panel in the middle of the library door, looking carefully into the chamber beyond. The others crowded behind her, all except Spike who stood again to one side, looking on. She was surprised to see that the library wasn't dark. Slowly, she began push the door open, trying to be silent; even though the room looked empty, anyone – or anything – could be hiding in the stacks. It squeaked slightly and she hissed between her teeth. A single light burned in what had been Giles' office, a small desk lamp. It provided enough illumination for her to see the library clearly; the table and chairs, the steps leading up into the stacks, and several piles of books stacked up in tilting columns on the floor.
Before, the library had always seemed like a sanctuary – she'd always known that Giles would be there, poring through his books, generally willing to help, listen and provide endless cups of tea – but now, empty, it seemed like a tomb. As she padded slowly into the room, she glanced up at the circular skylight far above. Xander and Willow crowded in behind her, Spike following slowly, making no effort to be quiet. Buffy turned to him, glaring, hissing through her teeth in exasperation.
"Can you make a little more noise?" she whispered sarcastically. He looked at her, face amused, then glanced round the library.
He led them up into the stacks, passing quickly beneath high shelves packed with arcane books, most of them from Giles' own collection. Few of the schools' own books were actually to be found in this place. He stopped in front of a door that none of them, not even Willow, had ever noticed. "The library doesn't extend all the way to the back of the building," he said quietly. "This door goes down into the storage space. Where they are." He glanced over his shoulder at Buffy, who stood stiffly, eyes huge in her white face. "Where they have Joyce, I should think. Not locked, either."
"Remember, you stay behind us!" Buffy reminded Xander and Willow. "Don't you – dare put yourselves in danger. You get Mom out." She stared at the door for a moment, then reached forward and eased it open, pulling it outwards and staring down into the dark stairwell revealed behind it. From below came a faint glow; candles, or a lantern, she thought. Enough to see by. More than she – or Spike – needed.
* * * *
She moved forwards slowly, silently, pacing with care down the narrow steps, trying not to breathe, trying not to make the stair treads creak, even though she could see they were in plain view if any one – or any thing – was in the room below them. She could feel Spike close behind her; the sound of his coat dragging on the steps was astonishingly loud in the otherwise silent building. She scanned the room carefully as she moved downwards, noting the rope still hanging limply from the overhead pipes nearby, eyes moving over discarded desks and chairs, passing without really seeing two dark blankets, shrouding two crumpled shapes on the floor. One lay almost in the corner of the room, beneath the stairs. The other lay over by a fallen chair. The room was empty.
She relaxed tense muscles as they stepped into the room. "They're not here," she said, still speaking quietly. She turned to glare at Spike. "You said they'd be here!" she continued. "Where are they? Huh? Did you let them know I was coming, is that it? Tell them to leave?!" Buffy was aware that her voice was rising as she stared at the blond vampire in front of her, anger roaring through her mind rose in red waves as she looked at him. Willow stood behind Spike, one foot still on the steps; Xander hung back, looking with distaste around the room, wincing as his eyes passed over suspiciously dark stains on the floor – blood, he assumed.
Spike calmly grounded the head of the axe on the floor and looked round again. "This is where they were, love. Can't help it if the chickens have fled the coop, now can I?" He paused and looked at her, meeting her angry gaze steadily. "And no, I didn't bloody tell them. I need your help, whether I like it or not. Think I'd p*ss you off that much? No." He nodded at a student desk, canted to one side with a broken leg. "But they've left you a note."
Buffy crossed the room in what seemed like one step, feeling as though she was moving through treacle. The air suddenly seemed thick and she felt light headed as she watched her hand reach out for the white sheet of paper, pinned to the desk.
"Buffy? What's it say?" Willow asked quietly, watching as the Slayer's face drained of even more colour.
The note was simple; stark black words handwritten in ink on a white sheet of paper. Buffy stared at them, the lines running together in her head, melding, making no sense. The piece of paper slipped from her trembling hand and she watched as it floated, seesawing from side to side through the air, landing lightly on the floor.
Willow lunged forward, around Spike, and snatched up the note that Buffy had dropped, even while Buffy moved forwards as though she were sleepwalking. Spike grunted in disgust as her peered over Willow's shoulder at the piece of paper she held, leaning on the axe. They didn't speak; the only sound in the basement was the harsh sound of shoes on the floor, the soft "tink" of the axe head as Spike moved.
"We knew you'd come, Buffy, and I knew you'd bring your friends," she read, the words settling into her mind with growing horror. "I know you better than you know yourself. So we've gone. Left you a present. Hope you like it. Jenny sends her love… Slayer." It was signed R, the single, angular letter slashed deeply into the paper. She glanced away from the paper, closing her eyes briefly, then looked up to see Buffy………