3007, ten minutes later
"Meet Caro and Eric," Reyni introduces the two young individuals seated across from Spike and me in her guest entertainment room.
Caro is tall and slender with reddish blond hair and milky white skin. She wears a tight pink jumpsuit and pink boots. Eric is stocky with dark hair and coloring; a pair of old-fashioned glasses perches on his nose. Both are fidgeting nervously in our presence. They appear to be so young that they can't possibly be who Reyni claims them to be.
"They are members of the Watcher's Council."
"But didn't the Council disband after we were killed?" I am confused and partially annoyed with Reyni. Perhaps my mixed feelings are partly due to the disturbing dream I had of her.
"Yes, but there were a wide variety of opinions about what the fate of the Council should be," Reyni explains.
As if needing reassurance that she is not alone, Caro glances at Eric before opening her mouth, "A small group of us wanted the Council to remain active in case the demons returned. Most of the Council retired."
"How many Watchers are left?" Spike asks, his hand settling lightly over my hand.
Eric bites his lip. "Counting Caro and I? Two."
"Really?" This is what's left of the Watcher's Council? I recall the throng of Watchers that literally filled the huge auditorium where Spike and I were placed on trial. I am also disconcertedly reminded of a time when the First Evil destroyed the Watchers Council and the slayers-in-training.
"Yes. We're it," Caro confirms as she shifts position again.
"I filled them in on what happened to you," Reyni changes the subject of scrutiny away from the neophyte Watchers. "Since your death on this plane and your return to Earth."
Spike sits back, crossing his arms. "Do you have any clue about where the vamps are coming from?"
Eric nods. "We believe that a source with information on this matter can be found on the moon. . . in a nightclub called 'The Lunar Tide.'"
"Hmm. Sounds like you already have a plan in place," I note, frowning at not being included in the decision-making process.
"We do." Caro glances apprehensively from Spike to me. "We thought that since you two have the power of invisibility. . ."
"Umm," Spike interrupts, lifting a hand. "*Buffy* has the power of invisibility, pet. . . not me. . ."
"And," I add, "I'm not sure I can control the ability well enough for it to be of any use in what I think you're going to say the plan is."
"You haven't even heard the plan." In typical Watcher fashion, Eric is clearly losing patience. Touchy, touchy.
"Lemme guess, mate. You want Buffy and I to go into the club, mingle with the crowd, and discover who knows information about how the vamps are getting back into this dimension. Once we figure out who's responsible, we put a stop to it anyway we can," Spike says, a finger popping out from his fist with each point he makes.
"Yes," Reyni agrees in an effort to avoid the confrontation that a seething Eric looks ready to initiate.
"How many vamp sightings have there been? And how long ago did they start?" I am slipping into commanding slayer mode. "Have other types of demons been present?
"There've only been vampires, and there have been isolated sightings across Earth for the last. . . oh, six months or so. Eric, Caro, and I took out a rather large nest about a week ago on the other side of the world. Seems the vamps are trying to tie themselves to our dimension. . . to Earth again. So far, though, we have no reports of new vampires though. And the demon return has been kept from the world government and thus the press."
"And the retired Watchers. . . do they know what's happening?" Spike leans forward as I speak, putting his hand to his mouth and balancing his knees on his thighs. He is thinking hard about something.
"We contacted all of them but got no response," Caro mentions.
I wonder why. "Too busy enjoying the luxurious life to come out of denial for a few minutes."
"Probably. Anyway,. . ."
Aydin's voice rises above Caro's as she barrels toward Reyni, "Mommy! I want a snack!"
Reyni catches the little girl in her arms and swings her onto her lap. "Just a minute, sweetie. Mommy's in an important meeting. We're almost done, and when we are, I'll get you a snack."
"What's the meeting about, Mommy?" Aydin's wide eyes pass over the four strangers.
"Mommy's work, honey."
"Oh." Apparently, Aydin's heard this speech before because she leans back against her mother, poking her thumb in her mouth.
Reyni tugs her daughter's thumb out. "No sucking your thumb, Aydin. Remember how you're a big girl now?"
"Still little!" Aydin sticks out her lower lip, contemplating an extreme pout.
"You're five, sweetie. You're a big girl, and big girls don't suck their thumb," Reyni reasons, stroking Aydin's curls. Aydin is obviously placated. "Go on, Caro."
"You sure she should hear this?" Caro asks uncertainly. Exactly what I'm thinking.
"She's going to hear it eventually. Why not have her know the truth about my job before she gets into danger?" Reyni peers around at Aydin's sweet face. "Aydin, what do you do if a person with pointy teeth comes after you?"
"If I'm near people, I scream, so someone can come help me. I tell them that the bad person was trying to hurt me," Aydin proudly recites. She mimes the actions behind her next words. "If I'm by myself, I hold up my cross so they get scareder than me, and I throw the magic water on them and burn them. Then, I run away to find some people who don't have pointy teeth."
"Good girl." Reyni kisses her daughter's plump cheek, and Aydin triumphantly beams at all of us. "Caro?"
Caro restarts, "Anyway, the plan. Um, Reyni, Rhonda, and Aimée are going with you to investigate other potential leads while you handle the moon club. Right now, Rhonda and Aimée are gathering weapons for all of us."
"And you and Eric will be doing what exactly?" Spike asks with sarcasm.
"Holding the fort on Earth and resuming attempts to recruit other Watchers to the cause."
"Let's get to it then." I rise to my feet with renewed confidence. "Where are Rhonda and Aimée? I want to check out what weapons they've managed to discover."
Reyni grins. "Rhonda's going to be so excited to see you both."
"Can I come to the moon, too?" Aydin asks eagerly.
Reyni shakes her head. "No, sweetie. You're going to stay here with Daddy."
"Don't wanna." Aydin punches her mother's upper arm.
A smile touches my lips as I am amazed and amused by the little girl's boldness.
* * *
3007, twenty-two hours later
Because the moon is closer to the Earth than Mars, travel time is much faster. Small speeder ships are used for transport to and from the planet to its moon. The ships burn fuel too quickly to be used for Earth-Mars travel. Thanks to Aimée, Spike and I easily use our false human identification to cross authority boundaries at numerous checkpoints. Aydin appeared halfway through the trip to the moon, having snuck onboard to be with her mother. Reyni didn't know what to do with her adventurous daughter, so she housed her in a local daycare facility with reputable security.
I've only been to the moon a few times. The moon is fairly small with only one large settlement, complete with its own miniature government, school system, housing, etcetera. As far as we know, few demons or vampires have ever been sighted here. The population is too small for dead or even wounded victims to go unnoticed, and the stored blood supply is minimal. I must admit that I'm a bit surprised that a contact connected to the vamps might be here.
"The Lunar Tide" turns out to be the sole dance club on the moon. Rhonda, Aimée, and Reyni have begun their own investigation, so Spike and I approach the club. The outside of the club is fairly nondescript. Only a small, slivered neon moon glows above the lone door. Thrumming music pours forth from the darkness of the club's inner core, and I feel myself starting to involuntarily respond to the beat. At the club entrance, an attendant takes our coats, and instantly, I feel completely naked.
Probably because I *am* almost completely naked. Aimée reassured us that our outfits were the norm, but I don't feel normal.
I am barely covered in the shortest red mini-skirt that can ever have been created and a scarlet-colored, sleeveless top with a neckline that plunges to my belly button. Thin straps cover my breasts. Glitter is spread over every inch of my exposed skin, and affixed with multiple rhinestones, my long hair swings loose and perfumed about my shoulders.
Before plummeting into the darkened main area, I turn to face Spike and redden. He's almost completely naked as well. . . at least the upper half of him is. He's wearing tight black pants and nothing else. Lucky him, he doesn't have to wear glitter or rhinestones. As with my outfit, no shoes cover his feet, and no shirt covers his well-muscled torso. The heat virtually radiates off of him, and I find myself desiring to do more than dance with him.
"What's wrong, love?" Spike teases. He seems maddeningly unfazed by his condition, but I've always been more modest than he. "Embarrassed to be seen with me?"
"This is worse than the time we disguised ourselves as those demons. . . whatever they were called. . ."
Spike is confounded by my story. "What demons?" he asks softly, letting me know to lower my volume.
I follow his lead to speak more quietly but still be heard over the blaring music. I point in a gesture reminiscent of Xander. "You know. . . the ones we pretended to be when we went to see Prenwick the first time."
"Ah. The really ugly ones? The watchamacallits?" Spike is on the edge of smirking at me, and I am on the edge of smacking him.
"Yes! Hey! How come we always get stuck with the undercover work?" I whisper close to his ear in a mock huff.
"Just our lot in life, pet," Spike assures me, his voice almost deepening into a growl. "Time to dance."
He takes a self-assured step toward me and trails his fingers over my forearms. A shivery thrill courses through me as he walks backward into the club, tugging me with him. At the moment, I will follow him anywhere.
The main room is the shape of the full moon. Twin bars line the left and right walls, and a stage rises prominently above the dance floor across from the entrance. The lights are dim and the atmosphere swirls with cinnamon-scented smoke and glitter that clings to the haze. People crowd the dance floor, dancing in an amorphous bunch to the heady beat of the music.
The fast-paced song ends just as Spike and I make our way to the dancing area. The sea of dancers parts, leaving us virtually alone. The transition to the next song is uncertain, but the tempo slows considerably.
Almost in thrall, I gaze at the singer. She is mesmerizing with flowing dark hair that curls softly over her shoulders, covering her naked breasts. A slip of a silver skirt barely covers her swaying hips. Trails of star-shaped rhinestones track down her arms to long, light-colored fingernails that catch the black lights and virtually glow. Her face is heavily made up with glitter, heavy eye shadow, and deep red lipstick. When she starts crooning, she catches my eyes, or at least I think she does, and she smiles, flashing perfect teeth.
Somehow I recognize her face, but with the makeup and dim lighting, I can't quite place her.
All of a sudden, I find myself pressed against a warm chest. "May I have this dance, love?"
"This one, and all the others," I reply earnestly.
"I'll make sure to clear my dance card, then." He pauses. "Did you know that in my human days, I never once danced with a lady?"
"Hmm. Why not?" I am starting to drown in his presence.
"They all rejected me." His voice is low and husky.
The musk Spike is wearing fills my nose as I stare up into his cerulean eyes. His hands rove over my hips that have unconsciously begun moving on their own. I press as close to him as physical matter will allow, not removing my eyes from his. His hips begin emulating my actions, and he bends to bury his head in my hair.
"Well, there will never be rejection here," I murmur with my cheek against his bare skin, stroking the firm muscles on his back.
"Good." He pulls back from me, his fingers landing at the small of my back. "Have you missed this between us?"
"How can you ask me that?" I wonder, pushing closer to him.
He's moving us with more urgency now, and the truth dawns as I feel the strength of his need. We haven't made love since the restoration of our relationship. I use all my strength to not take him in public, but the throb of the music is seductive and resonating.
In one motion, I bring his head down to mine and sweep my lips over his, darting my tongue briefly between his lips so that he audibly groans. "I love you. And I'll always want you. . . and only you."
Reminding me of his vampire days, he growls deep in the back of his throat. "I love you, too, pet. Always."
"Can we leave now?" I ask suggestively.
Spike's merriment shines in his eyes. "Not now. We have a mission to accomplish."
"Damn mission."
Abruptly, the song ends, and Spike and I reluctantly part and turn from each other to discover that we are virtually the only ones who have been dancing. Several people are watching us from side tables. So much for being inconspicuous. Spike places a hand on my shoulder blade, guiding me to an empty table.
A male voice comes over the speakers, "Miss Genevieve will now take a short break. Until she comes back, relax, grab a drink, and rest your dance feet."
The singer bounces lightly from the stage and slips toward the bar. Something inside of me says that I should talk with her. I poke Spike.
"I'm going to go ask her a few questions."
Spike nods. "And I'll take the vagrants across the room. Want something to drink while I'm up?"
I give him a look. "Alcohol? Human me? I don't think so. And we're on a mission. No time to get drunk because we're not used to our human bodies."
Spike rolls his eyes playfully. "It's so I have a reason to cross over there, pet. Not for us to actually drink."
"Oh. Got it. Good luck, sweetie." I rise and head to my destination after squeezing Spike's hand a final time.
Miss Genevieve is lounging on the end of the bar closest to the stage, chatting with the bartender and sipping a glass of something. I approach her cautiously. She faces me right when I am about to speak her name.
"Hello. Aren't you quite the little dancer? You and that nice-looking young guy." She takes a long drink.
My mouth drops open in shock. "Jenn?" This close to her, I recognize the girl from my dreams beneath her coat of makeup.
"Yeah, girl. That's what my friends call me. Genevieve is just my stage name." She sets the drink aside. "Do I know you?"
I bite my lip and plunge in, "Do you have someplace more private where we could talk?"
She guides me to a place deeper in the shadows. "This is as good as it gets. Bothersome club owners don't even give me my own dressing room. Now what do you need from me?"
Relying on the information from my slayer dream, I boldly ask, "What do you know about the recent vampire sightings?"
Jenn closes her eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, she reopens them. Staring back at me is a golden pair of vampire eyes. "Quite a bit actually."
TBC. . . We're gonna change times now. . . and places. So, get ready. You will learn the fate of Buffy and Spike's adventure at the club, and it's a doozy, so get ready! ;o)
Next chapter I write will be chapter two of "Three Wishes," my Spuffy Aladdin fic!
Take care, sweeties!
Sandy
http://www.toomanycolors.net/sensibility