Chapter 6 - Curiouser and Curiouser

Lizzie's squeals could be heard from the spare bedroom. She was making herself at home, and the news that she would be sharing the big, double bed with her mum was a real treat. She didn't understand that there was a problem with her dad. He was working away somewhere, and, while she missed him, he always came back.

Buffy came in to find her jumping on the bed, her face flushed with excitement. She caught the child, pulling her down onto the bed and tickling her into submission.

"You're mom's on the phone. We need to keep the noise down a bit. And, we really don't need to have to take little girls who've fallen off the bed to hospital with bumped heads. Let's see if we can do something else. Do you want a story?"

Lizzie's giggling subsided, and she looked seriously at Buffy. "Don't need you to read me a story. I can read you a story."

"Ok, you read to me. What've you got?"

"I like this one." Lizzie pulled a book from a back pack she had brought with her. "It's about a boy called Henry and he's got a brother called Peter. And Henry's a bad boy, and Peter's a good boy."

They settled down to the story, but Buffy's mind was on the call Jenny was taking. She allowed her mind to wander further, wondering exactly what had happened the night before. She still hadn't spoken to Spike about the stupid chance he took, and she could feel the fear in the pit of her stomach when she thought how easily she could have lost him.

Spike and Alasdair were in the kitchen. They had left Jenny to talk to her solicitor in peace, but Spike's hearing was tuned to hear the tone of voice, if not the actual words, in the other room. The instant the call was over, he jumped up and ran into the lounge, Alasdair at his heels.

Jenny was sitting with her head in her hands. It took several seconds before she realised she was no longer alone. When she looked up, her face was puzzled.

"What is it?" Spike's impatience got the better of him.

"I don't know. My solicitor has just spoken to the lawyer in Malta who was looking into Rupert's case. He says that Rupert was released yesterday into the custody of representatives of the Council of Watchers. Then, late last night, it was found that the informant who had reported that Rupert was trying to steal antiquities was unreliable, and the charges were dropped. As far as the authorities in Malta are concerned, Rupert is free to leave the country, but no one knows where he is."

Alasdair and Spike shared a look, but it was Spike who said what both were thinking. "The Council."

"So, what do we do?" Jenny wanted to know.

Alasdair looked at the woman, wishing he had something better to offer. "I don't know. We don't even know where he is. He could be still on Malta, or he could be on his way back to London. Of the two, the latter seems more likely. I mean, this is their base. If they're going to keep someone under lock and key, that's got to be easier on home ground, hasn't it?"

Spike nodded. "And, Emily's probably in London too - most likely at the Council headquarters. There's definitely another exit from Barrat's office, and I'd bet anything that's where Emily is. The same might go for Giles, when he gets here."

There was silence for a few moments. The silence was broken by Buffy coming in again. Lizzie had decided she didn't want to read out loud, and Buffy wanted to find out what had happened.

Alasdair asked about something that had been preying on his mind since the symptoms of his hangover had receded.

"Spike, I'm a bit woolly on what happened last night. I know I was out of my mind with worry, and then we came back, and I seem to remember drinking a lot, but something's been bothering me. What happened?"

Spike glanced at Buffy and saw her gaze harden. He winced slightly, then started to speak. "Well, I got back and found you were gone. I guessed you'd gone to the Council building, so I drove into town. Found an open window, and headed down to …."

"Wait. You just climbed in a window?"

"Well, yeah."

"Do you have any idea of the security on that building?"

"No. Must admit, I thought there would be something, well, er, demon orientated. But there was nothing."

Alasdair was shaking his head. Buffy jumped in. "What is it Alasdair?"

"Well, there is security. There's a defence on that building - it's been there since the building was first erected, and it's been used on every headquarters since the Council was first formed. It's a spell. Very powerful. It incinerates any demon who enters the building."

Spike looked slightly sick, but Buffy just looked angry. Spike immediately tried to defend himself.

"Well, it didn't work. No burning. No heat. Don't think much of the spell."

"Spike, something's going on." Alasdair sounded concerned. "I mean, it's not a frequent occurrence or anything, but it's worked fairly recently. It's well known among those working in the building - office gossip. The last time I knew of it happening was, maybe two years ago. Just before Travers was turned. The rumour afterwards was that it was one of Angelus' minions sent to capture Travers. Don't know, though. It's rather difficult to identify the victim afterwards. It's probably happened since then, but I've been out of the loop."

"So," Buffy asked. "Why isn't Spike all dusty? Not that I'm complaining, because I'm really going to enjoy showing him how angry I am with him later."

"To be perfectly honest, I really don't know. There is a protection spell. It's used on demons held on the premises. It can be removed quickly, so it's an incentive not to attempt escape. If you haven't had the protection spell done for you, then the only other possibility is that the security spell's been breached somehow."

Spike nodded his head. "Who could do that? I mean, it'd take someone pretty powerful, wouldn't it?"

"By today's standards, it'd take someone very powerful, probably working in tandem with others…… Grianne."

"But she's …" Jenny started.

"We don't know where she is. The Council decided to get her out of the way, and we've heard what was written in that letter, but, what if she got wind of what was happening, and got herself back to her coven?" Spike was looking happier than before.

"But, how would she know Spike would try an idiotic thing like last night?" Buffy asked.

"Don't you see, she didn't have to?" Alasdair countered. "If she got wind of what Barrat was planning with Emily, she could have destroyed the security spell to safeguard Emily. She would know that Emily wouldn't prove an easy prisoner, and might try to escape," Alasdair replied.

"So," Spike summarised. "Grianne is still free, but probably hiding out in Ireland. That simplifies things. Now we only have two captives to worry about. Is there any way we can contact Grianne? If anyone can find the other two, it's her."

"If she's hiding, we're just going to have to wait until she contacts us." Buffy answered.

It was much later. Buffy had decided to go out for a walk, and Spike had reluctantly decided to go along. The afternoon had been painful for all involved. They had discussed every idea they had to try to release Emily, but nothing sounded like anything other than a suicide attempt. It didn't help that there was tension between the two vampires. When the evening meal was over, and Jenny was busy bathing the two children, Alasdair had practically pushed Spike out of the house to follow Buffy.

"Whatever it takes, sort it out," he had told him. Spike knew he was right, and that the only reason the unpleasant atmosphere between them had been allowed to fester was because they had company. Buffy didn't want to do whatever she felt she had to with their friends, and perhaps more particularly, the children, in attendance.

At first, Buffy ignored Spike. She was walking briskly, enjoying the feeling of actually doing something, even if it wasn't calculated to achieve much. She felt her head clear, but at the same time, the resentment she was feeling towards Spike was growing.

The local park was closed - its gates locked at dusk. Of course, a locked gate was no obstacle for either of them, so they pulled themselves over the fence. Inside it was very dark. There was no illumination inside the park other than what leaked from the backs of the houses that surrounded the park. Picking her route with precision, the darkness no obstacle, Buffy headed into the interior of the park, Spike following, willing her to acknowledge him.

At last, he could bear it no longer. The worst thing she could possibly do to him was to ignore him. He yanked on her arm, pulling her to face him.

"Will you just hit me, or whatever it is you have in mind!"

Buffy turned to face him, and for a second, her eyes glowed golden as her anger threatened to overwhelm her. She fought down the change, and was surprised to find that her hazel eyes were filling with tears.

She launched a punch at him. It knocked him off his feet, sending him flying through the air to land in a heap. He raised his fist to his nose, noting that he was bleeding. Buffy stood looking at him, her hands on her hips, her face a mixture of fury and fear and sadness.

"Do you know what it would have done to me if you hadn't come back?"

Her voice was almost inaudible, but filled with emotion.

"'Bout the same as I felt when Angelus had you?"

"No! Then, you had hope. You had a chance I'd come back. If you'd been caught by that security spell, I don't think I'd have lasted the day."

Spike stood up and walked towards her. He wanted to hold her, to show her he was still there. He wanted to promise that he'd never do anything that stupid again, but he knew better. If there was one adjective that described Spike it was 'impulsive'. If he hadn't been, he wouldn't have her. He would have killed her that night in Sunnydale and walked away from the corpse of his third Slayer.

As he tried to put his arms around her, she pushed him away, then rained blows down on his torso. He took punch after punch without blocking or defending himself in any way. The blows became feebler as the tears which had formed in her eyes started to flow. At last they were so weak, that he moved towards her again. He pulled her close and held her tight.

"I'm here, Love. And I'm not going anywhere. I know how you feel, 'cos I'd feel the same way if anything happened to you. I'm sorry I took a stupid risk, but you'd have done the same thing."

Buffy shook her head, but Spike's eyes held hers, and she gradually realised he was right. Had she been the one to discover what Alasdair intended the previous night, she would have done the same thing. Realisation increased her sobbing, and Spike pulled her even closer. When, at last, her sobbing quieted, Spike kissed her. Her response was immediate. Not only had they spent the previous night apart, but the tension between them had added to her need for him. Without discussion, they both started to head back to the flat, hoping the others wouldn't find a reason to detain them.

The flat was quiet when they returned. The door to the bedroom Jenny was using was open, and the quiet breathing of two children could be heard. The television was on in the lounge, but neither Alasdair nor Jenny acknowledged their return. The two vampires headed for their bedroom and closed the door behind them. It was late the next morning before either emerged, and when they did, it was obvious that everything between them was well again.

* - * - *

Rupert Giles came around somewhere dark. A little later, he realised he was lying on a cold, damp, stone floor. He squinted around, but couldn't make out much detail in his immediate vicinity. He started to get up, but almost thought better of it as his head started to swim and throb. He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position and from there to his knees. He stayed that way for a few moments, as the room seemed to be spinning. When the sensation lessened, he pulled himself up and took in his surroundings.

It didn't take too much imagination to recognise he was in a dungeon. The amount of moisture on the walls and the floor certainly suggested they were underground, and the stonework certainly fitted with being part of a very old building. The room was small, and the word 'cell' didn't seem at all inappropriate. There was a slight glimmer of light coming from one wall, and Giles approached it cautiously. It was a grill in the wooden door, and through it he could just make out what seemed to be a dimly lit stone corridor. There was no sign of anyone, so he turned away from the light, letting his eyes readjust to the darkness of his cell.

After a few moments, he found he could just make out some sort of a raised object on the opposite wall, so he approached it carefully, finding a hard wooden bench which would probably double as a very uncomfortable bed. There was a damp blanket on the bench, and Giles considered wrapping himself in it, as the damp chill of the place was causing him to shiver. He sat down gingerly, wrapping his arms around his body to keep as warm as he could and tried to remember what had happened.

His physical symptoms resembled a hangover, but he had no memory of getting drunk. At first he had no memories of any sort, but gradually things came back to him. He remembered being in Malta. He remembered being arrested, and kept in a prison cell. He remembered it quite fondly now compared with his current accommodation. At least it had been warm and dry. He remembered the news that he was to be released, and the relief he had felt when he recognised a familiar face from the Council of Watchers. The man was John Waters, and he knew him slightly, but had never had much contact with him. John had taken him outside to a waiting car, and then it went blank. He assumed he had been drugged, most likely by injection, as he couldn't remember eating or drinking anything.

He tried to work out a reason for what was happening, but he could think of nothing. Whatever it was, it seemed likely that either the Council of Watchers was responsible, or that he was captured because he was a representative of the Council. It the latter were true, then where were John and the driver of the car, whoever that was? He decided to try shouting, to see if there was anyone else around.

He approached the grill again, and shouted. He could hear the echo of his own voice reverberating around, but there was no reply. As an afterthought, he checked his watch, illuminating the display so he could see the time and date. It was late afternoon, some nine hours after his release from prison. He had no idea of his location. He could have travelled a significant distance in nine hours, and, while he could still be on Malta, he tended to doubt it. Then there was the possibility that those who captured him had altered his watch, so he realised with a sickening feeling that he really didn't know anything at all.

*-*-*

Grianne Sullivan woke to a bright day. She swung her legs out of bed, and pulled on a wrap before going to her ensuite bathroom for a shower. When she was dressed, she went downstairs to the dining room to find a simple breakfast already laid out for her. She ate her toast and drank two cups of tea undisturbed, then went to find the others.

She was the last to arrive, but she had known she would be. She had not seen some of these women for many years, yet they were closer to her than mere family could be. These were her sisters, the members of the coven to which she had belonged since she had first shown promise in the magical arts at the age of six. Forty years later, she was among the most senior of them, but one of very few required to live away from the sisterhood. She had arrived late two nights before, but she was expected and everything she needed had been prepared. The magic she had performed on her arrival was ancient, and drained her to such an extent that she had no memory of being put to bed after the ritual, and she knew she had slept for almost thirty-six hours.

She settled on the ornately carved chair remaining in the circle, and smiled at her sisters. "What news?" she asked.

"The removal of the protection spell was successful. It has already proved its worth, as one of her protectors entered the building last night."

The speaker was an auburn haired witch, aged perhaps thirty, who sat opposite Grianne. "Which?" Grianne asked.

"The one who calls himself 'Spike'. The Highlander went to attempt to rescue the girl, and the vampire went to his aid."

Grianne nodded silently, her thoughts full of the relief she felt that she had refused to delay the removal of the protection spell. She had received information from the Coven supplied by another member who was privy to the inner workings of the Council. Eleanor Price was one of those whose families made up all the high level positions within the Council, and a good many less exalted positions too. Because of her connections, she was privy to information not available to the majority of Watchers. Her family assumed her loyalty to them would overcome her loyalty to the sisterhood. They were wrong. She was employed by the Council as a witch, and while her talents were small compared to Grianne, she was a valued member of the coven.

The news that Eleanor had supplied was that Grianne was to be taken prisoner by the Council so that a move could be made on Emily. Grianne immediately took counter measures, and managed to cast a simple confusion spell which ensured that her would-be captors believed they had her prisoner. She had immediately returned to her true home, and taken the measures she had decided were required. Now came the time to decide on the next course of action.

"And how is Emily?"

There was embarrassed shuffling at this. "She's alive," one of the witches started.

"And?"

"And, Michael has started the standard raft of tests on her."

"Then, they know." Grianne's simple statement caused the mood in the room to become more sombre than before.

"If they know," Grianne reasoned, "then they will try to destroy her."

"But" another replied, "that will not be so easy."

"Easy, no. Possible, yes. And in the meantime, Emily will be likely to suffer a great deal. We must act, and act soon. In the meantime, what of the others? You said that Alasdair tried to rescue her, and that Spike came to his aid. What of Buffy and Giles?"

"We believe Buffy is in London with Spike and Alasdair. Giles' wife and children are there also. The whereabouts of Rupert Giles is unknown."

"Very well," Grianne summed up. "Then, our tasks are clear. We must find Rupert Giles, and we must free Emily. Those of you gifted in searching for the lost, find Giles. The rest of us must plan how to remove Emily from the Council. The New is not yet able to protect herself, and she must be allowed to fulfil her potential. The vested interests within the Council are alone among humankind in wanting to destroy that which was foretold. We must stop them."