Chapter Eighteen

The doorbell rang. Buffy trudged down the stairs to answer it. It rang again. "Okay, I'm coming, I'm coming. Jeez, give a girl a few seconds to get down the stairs, why don't you?" She got to the door and opened it. "Giles!" she squeaked when she saw who it was.

"Yes, that's right, Giles. It's good to see you too Buffy."

She smiled slightly and moved forward to give him a much-needed hug. "Oh, Giles, I'm so glad you're here. I could use the help." She pulled away and stepped back into the entryway.

"And that is why I'm here." He moved inside and put his bags on the floor. Then, he closed the door and turned back to Buffy. "Buffy we need to talk. This is very serious."

"I know."

"No. I'm afraid you don't. I didn't want to warn you over the phone. I was afraid that you wouldn't take me seriously. And Buffy, you have to understand, this is very serious. We know what Spike has done. And it isn't good."

"I know." She lowered her gaze and stared absently at her shoes. "He made a deal with a demon."

"You know?" Giles seemed genuinely surprised.

"Yeah," she looked back up at her mentor. "He told me. Told me he made a deal with a demon and got his soul back."

"Yes, and of course, you know it's always wise to accept, at face value, the word of a psychotic serial killer."

"Giles, it's not like that." She turned and stepped into the living room.

Giles followed. "Buffy, it is like that. Yes, Spike did make a deal with a demon. The Ruglage Demon of Africa."

"How do you know that?" she asked in surprise.

"It's called 'research' Buffy. What you promised me you would be doing these past few days, if you recall? Now, the Ruglage is a wish-granting demon. If the supplicant - in this case Spike - survives a series of prescribed trials--"

"Trials? What kind of trials?"

"Probably involving some form of torture, or a test of endurance. It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter? You're telling me Spike may have had to go through hell to get his soul back and it doesn't matter?"

"It's not important Buffy. Will you please let me finish?"

She glared at him, but didn't say another word.

"If the supplicant survives these trials, the demon is obligated to grant his or her wish to the exact letter of the request, as the demon sees fit. Buffy," Giles moved closer to her, "whatever Spike wished for could not have been good. Perhaps he did get his soul back, but even so, there is more to this than that. He wished for something more. He's lying to you if he tells you any differently."

"He isn't."

"Yes Buffy, he is. Good God, is this part of the spell? He's thoroughly bewitched you. Don't you see? Whatever he's done has affected your judgement."

"No Giles it hasn't. I realize that you think I'm incapable of discerning my own feelings, of acting the responsible adult, but I'm not."

"Buffy, I have never said any such thing."

"Then stop treating me like a child. Look Giles, I know there's something going on here. I'm not oblivious to it. But it's not what you think. Spike asked for his soul back." She looked away from him and added softly, "For me."

"For you? Buffy, what are you talking about? What, exactly, did Spike say to you?"

She still couldn't meet his gaze. "Just that he had made a deal with a demon. That he had gotten his soul back, so he could give me what I deserve."

"What . . . what you deserve?" Giles stumbled over the sentence. "Were those his exact words?"

"To the demon?" She finally raised her eyes to meet his gaze. "I don't know. But that's what he said to me."

Giles let out a heavy sigh and sat down on the arm of the sofa wearily. "Splendid. Just splendid."

"Why?" she asked. "What's the problem?"

Giles sighed in irritation. "If those were his exact words, that would mean that this Ruglage demon has set about trying to fulfill that part of the wish. Trying to give you 'what you deserve,' whatever that means. Buffy," he pulled up to the edge of the couch, "you must be extremely careful. This demon has it in for you, and I'm not sure if there's any way we can break the spell. We may simply have to pray that whatever it is that you deserve, does not involve your gruesome, horrible death."

"And the dreams?"

He took off his glasses and started cleaning them in frustration. "Apparently part of the demon's plan to manipulate you, to move you along the path it has chosen for you. It would certainly explain why your dreams all took place within the framework of Spike's life. The demon must have used Spike's psyche to construct its malicious web. Buffy, you must not let those dreams control you. You must steel yourself against them," he warned.

"Shouldn't be that hard." She shrugged. "The dreams have stopped. I haven't had one since before Spike came back to town."

"Well let's hope that's an end to it, because if they start again . . ."

"I'll just, be prepared."