CHAPTER 3
"How may I help you spend money?" Anya asked as a man in his early thirties with dark hair and light blue eyes entered the magic shop. She studied him thoughtfully. It had been a slow morning and the young shopkeeper was determined to make up for not meeting her projected profit during the second half of the day. Anya looked for clues that would tell her what kind of customer he was, and therefore increase her chances of making a sale.
The tall man was dressed causally, but by no means sloppily. His neatly pressed chinos and dress shirt led Anya to believe that he was probably not searching for magick ingredients. At least not real ones. Often times, especially around Halloween, members of the general public ventured into the magick store simply on a whim or in search of "magic." What they really wanted in those cases was a cheap optical illusion to show their friends.
Anya continued her mental note taking. Although young, the glasses he wore gave him a serious, studious look. However, Anya knew that looks could be deceiving. After all, a false façade was how an 1120 year old demon had ended up in the body of a human high school senior a couple years back.
"I'm, ah, looking for a Mr., ah, Giles," the man said. "Is he available?"
"I'm sorry," Anya said. "Mr. Giles is visiting a supplier in Los Angeles today. Can I help you?"
"No, no, thank you." The man paused for a moment, thinking. "I, ah, understand he's an expert in local history and, ah, unusual occurrences. I was hoping I might speak with him."
"He'll be back tomorrow," Anya assured him.
"Good." The man nodded. "How late are you open?"
"Until seven o'clock," she replied with a smile. "Are you sure I can't help you find something?"
"No, thank you," he said. "I'll come back tomorrow." With that he turned and headed back out the door.
"Thank you for stopping!" Anya called to his back. "Come back soon and spend money!"
The man turned to look over his shoulder at the shopkeeper's odd statement while walking through the door. In doing so, he failed to see the person coming into the shop.
Willow gasped in surprise as she ran into the man coming out of the Magic Box. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts, she hadn't realized he was there. Apparently he hadn't seen her either.
"Sorry, I–"
"Pardon me, miss–"
Both stopped mid-apology as they recognized the other.
"Professor Gage!" Willow exclaimed before regaining her composure. "Sorry. I-, I wasn't watching where I was going."
"Quite all right, Ms. Rosenberg. My fault, really," he said. "I wasn't paying attention either."
"Right. Well, then…" Willow trailed off nervously.
"I should be going," Gage responded. "I'll see you in class."
Willow nodded and moved past him farther into the Magic Box. As soon as she heard the door close, she made a beeline to the counter and Anya.
"What did he want?" the redhead asked.
"He wanted to talk to Giles," Anya said.
"About what?" Willow pressed.
"I didn't ask. Xander says it's rude to ask strangers about private matters." She cocked her head to the side and studied the young witch. "Why do you have that look?"
"What look?"
"That look like something's wrong and you're not sure what to do. Like you did a spell that went all screwy and you want to fix it before Giles finds out, but you don't know how."
"No, no spell," Willow reassured her. "And I don't know if anything's wrong yet." Turning, she walked right back out of the store before Anya could ask any more questions.
* * * * *
"Spike?" Willow called, pushing open the door to his crypt. "Are you in there?"
Receiving no reply, she shrugged and entered the crypt. She scanned the upper level, and finding it Spikeless, she crossed the room and pulled open the trapdoor that lead to the basement area. Willow knelt beside the opening and called out.
"Spike? Spike, are you down there?" She paused, waiting for a response that didn't come. "Spike, it's Willow. I need to talk to you."
When no response was forthcoming, she shrugged and stood up, looking around for the best place to leave a note. She crossed the room to the TV and pulled a piece of notebook paper out of her bag. She hurriedly scribbled a note and placed the paper on top of a larger packet of papers stapled together. She set the entire pile on top of Spike's television. Taking one last look around, she turned to leave.
"Stupid vampires, supposed to be sleeping during the day," she muttered to herself as she walked back out into the sunshine.
* * * * *
"Consider this an early Christmas present, Slayer. We've released fifty of our little friends around town just for you. Hope you like it. We didn't keep the receipt."
Buffy looked up from reading aloud the note that had been wrapped around the stake in the mannequin's hand. The Scoobies were gathered around the table in the Magic Box later that evening. Books piled atop one another covered the table as research continued for information on the diamond stolen from the museum, and what type of demon might want it. So far, their research had uncovered very little. To add to that, now they had to deal with a infestation of giant, possibly demon spiders.
"So," Xander asked, "are these like those whatzit spiders we traded with the Mayor for Willow?"
"Definitely no," Buffy said. "These are like the extra large super- sized version of those."
Giles, Xander, and Willow all shifted restlessly, remembering the Mayor and his box of spiders.
"The mannequin's at the house," Buffy continued explaining what had happened the night before. "I didn't really want to bring it inside. I mean it could be just a creepy person-sized doll…"
"Or it could be a bomb or a spy device or something," Xander added.
"Or something," Buffy agreed. "Plus, it had to have been covered in all those spiders, and, ewww…"
The group collectively shivered, each imagining being stuck at the center of a nest of giant spiders.
"How did you get out?" Dawn asked. "Did you have a knife?"
Buffy looked away a moment before answering. "No, we didn't have a knife."
"And?" the teen prodded.
"Let's just say Spike's fangs got more of a workout last night than they have in a long time."
The group stared at her incredulously.
Finally Xander broke the silence with a laugh. "You made him chew you out?"
"Well it was either that or wait for the spiders to do it!" the Slayer defended herself to the now laughing group at the table.
The image of that stopped the laughter cold, as the focus of the gathering returned to the newest Hellmouth creature-feature.
Before anyone could comment further, the door to the basement swung open and Spike stood in the doorway, clutching some papers in his hand. His gaze immediately focused in on Willow.
"Where did you get these, Red?" he demanded.
"I'm guessing that's a big yes in the accuracy department," she responded.
"Where did you get them?" Spike repeated, deadly serious, ignoring Willow's comment.
"Are they accurate?" she responded, not at all intimidated by his glare.
"Yes." Spike nodded curtly, deciding that answering her question would lead to getting his own answered.
"How accurate?"
"Very," he said shortly. "Now, where did you get them?"
"One of my teachers, he gave them to us as a reading assignment," Willow responded. "As fiction. I recognized some of the, um, events from previous research. I wondered how much was true."
"Um," Buffy began, raising her hand to get Willow and Spike's attention. "What are we talking bout here?"
"This," Spike said, throwing the papers down in front of her. She read the title aloud. "'The Scourge of Europe?'"
"One of my classes," Willow explained. "Cultural Studies in Mythology. We talk about myths and stories and how and why people use them to deal with things they don't understand. We spent the first part of the semester talking about, um, death and grief. Professor Gage argues that mythologies about heaven, hell, re-incarnation, and a variety of others are man's way of coping with something he can't control or ever hope to fully understand." She smiled, "Which was kind of ironic. Cuz, you know, what with all the research I was doing for the, uh, resurrection spell."
Buffy winced, but quickly recovered and asked, "Why are you reading this if you're talking about grief?"
"Oh, we're done with that section," the witch responded, waving her hand dismissively. "Now, we're talking about fears and, um, things that go bump in the night."
"And this?" Buffy asked, pointing at the reading packet.
"He said it was fiction," Willow responded. "but, like I said, I thought I recognized some of the stuff in it."
"Is it a true account of…" Buffy trailed off, unsure of how to refer to the glory days of the Scourge.
"Of the good old days?" Spike finished for her, smirking. However, the smirk was quickly replaced by a frown as he confirmed Willow's suspicion. "Yeah. It's, it's more than that."
He looked around apprehensively at the group and steeled himself before continuing. "You probably noticed, Red, that it's written like a, uh-"
"A journal?" she prompted.
"Right. A journal." He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before confessing, "It is."
Buffy glanced down and read the italicized words preceding the text aloud.
"Excerpts from the diary of William the Bloody."
There was a collective gasp from the Scoobies that was almost comical as all heads in the room except Willow's turned to look at Spike in surprise.
"This is your diary?" Buffy asked.
"Yeah." Spike admitted with a scowl. "Parts of it, anyway. It's from the, uh, high years, as it were."
"The high years?" Dawn asked.
"Me and Dru and Angelus and Darla," he began. "From the time I was turned until the poof got his soul. Those were the high years. Of the Scourge. Me, I'm still going strong."
Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike's need to re-affirm his badness to the group and did some quick math in her head. "So, we're talking about what, a twenty year span?"
"Yeah," the vampire said. "Something like that. Course I had more than just one journal during that time. This is from the first one, though. I didn't go by William the Bloody for long."
"I guessed," Willow said. "The first, um, entry talks about you, um, waking up."
An uneasy silence fell around the table, as they remembered another member of the group who had recently clawed her way out of a coffin.
"The question is," Tara said, attempting to re-focus the others. "How did Willow's teacher get a hold of it?"
"I lost it," Spike shook his head ruefully at the memory. "We got run out of town more than once by a mob and lots of stuff got left behind. Angelus always had a bloody fit. 'Specially 'bout this."
"Why?" Dawn asked.
"Well, Bit," Spike looked sheepish for a second before his Big Bad persona slipped back into place. "I, ah, might have been the reason for the mobs, more often than not. Angelus always did prefer the stalking and mind games to the fight. As for that," he gestured at the papers Buffy still held. "He wasn't too happy about the idea of someone finding it and using it to track us. Some nonsense about patterns and such."
"Well, I know I'm finding this absolutely fascinating," Xander said sarcastically, "But we care why? I mean, so some professor has one of Spike's old journals. He thinks it's fiction, right? So, other than reading about the blood and gore of 'the high days,' what's the big deal?"
"Can I read it?" Dawn asked, reaching for the packet.
"No!" Spike grabbed it from Buffy's grasp. Seeing Dawn's hurt look, he explained. "It's private, Bit. It'd be just like me reading your diary."
"So," Buffy said. "Do we have a problem or not?"
"Oh!" Willow exclaimed, remembering. "He was here today. Professor Gage. To talk to Giles. Anya said he was coming back tomorrow."
"Did he say when?" Spike asked.
The shopkeeper shook her head. "No. But he did ask how late we were open, so I would guess late."
"Okay," Buffy said. "Will, you keep an eye on him in class tomorrow. See what he says. I'll clue Giles in in the morning and we'll go from there. As for the spiders, I'll try to catch one on patrol and see if that will give us any more info. Sound good?"
The others nodded. Buffy noticed that Spike had slipped out the door while she was speaking. She shrugged and looked at Willow.
"So dish, Will," Buffy smiled and leaned in. "Was it bad? I mean, you read it, right?"
Willow shrugged. "It wasn't anything worse than stuff we've already come across about Spike or Angel. But, I don't really think I should talk about it. It, it feels like a violation of privacy. I mean, it's his diary. And, it's written like that. From his perspective and stuff." *If anything,* the witch continued to herself, *it makes his seem more human.*
tbc
+++++
A/N: WOW! Thanks for all the nice feedback, again, guys! You made my day! I hope the spiders were creepy enough – I give myself the willies with those things. Next chapter will be more in-dept with Willow's class, for all of you clamoring to find out more about our favorite villainous vampires.
My favorite one-liner: Season Five: "Listening to Fear." (Technically, this may qualify as a two-liner; I'm not sure if Xander's line counts or is just set-up.) The Scoobies are at the University library's astronomy section to research the Queller demon:
Xander: I still don't get why we had to come here to get info about a killer snot monster.
Giles: Because it's a killer snot monster from outer space…I did not say that.
"How may I help you spend money?" Anya asked as a man in his early thirties with dark hair and light blue eyes entered the magic shop. She studied him thoughtfully. It had been a slow morning and the young shopkeeper was determined to make up for not meeting her projected profit during the second half of the day. Anya looked for clues that would tell her what kind of customer he was, and therefore increase her chances of making a sale.
The tall man was dressed causally, but by no means sloppily. His neatly pressed chinos and dress shirt led Anya to believe that he was probably not searching for magick ingredients. At least not real ones. Often times, especially around Halloween, members of the general public ventured into the magick store simply on a whim or in search of "magic." What they really wanted in those cases was a cheap optical illusion to show their friends.
Anya continued her mental note taking. Although young, the glasses he wore gave him a serious, studious look. However, Anya knew that looks could be deceiving. After all, a false façade was how an 1120 year old demon had ended up in the body of a human high school senior a couple years back.
"I'm, ah, looking for a Mr., ah, Giles," the man said. "Is he available?"
"I'm sorry," Anya said. "Mr. Giles is visiting a supplier in Los Angeles today. Can I help you?"
"No, no, thank you." The man paused for a moment, thinking. "I, ah, understand he's an expert in local history and, ah, unusual occurrences. I was hoping I might speak with him."
"He'll be back tomorrow," Anya assured him.
"Good." The man nodded. "How late are you open?"
"Until seven o'clock," she replied with a smile. "Are you sure I can't help you find something?"
"No, thank you," he said. "I'll come back tomorrow." With that he turned and headed back out the door.
"Thank you for stopping!" Anya called to his back. "Come back soon and spend money!"
The man turned to look over his shoulder at the shopkeeper's odd statement while walking through the door. In doing so, he failed to see the person coming into the shop.
Willow gasped in surprise as she ran into the man coming out of the Magic Box. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts, she hadn't realized he was there. Apparently he hadn't seen her either.
"Sorry, I–"
"Pardon me, miss–"
Both stopped mid-apology as they recognized the other.
"Professor Gage!" Willow exclaimed before regaining her composure. "Sorry. I-, I wasn't watching where I was going."
"Quite all right, Ms. Rosenberg. My fault, really," he said. "I wasn't paying attention either."
"Right. Well, then…" Willow trailed off nervously.
"I should be going," Gage responded. "I'll see you in class."
Willow nodded and moved past him farther into the Magic Box. As soon as she heard the door close, she made a beeline to the counter and Anya.
"What did he want?" the redhead asked.
"He wanted to talk to Giles," Anya said.
"About what?" Willow pressed.
"I didn't ask. Xander says it's rude to ask strangers about private matters." She cocked her head to the side and studied the young witch. "Why do you have that look?"
"What look?"
"That look like something's wrong and you're not sure what to do. Like you did a spell that went all screwy and you want to fix it before Giles finds out, but you don't know how."
"No, no spell," Willow reassured her. "And I don't know if anything's wrong yet." Turning, she walked right back out of the store before Anya could ask any more questions.
* * * * *
"Spike?" Willow called, pushing open the door to his crypt. "Are you in there?"
Receiving no reply, she shrugged and entered the crypt. She scanned the upper level, and finding it Spikeless, she crossed the room and pulled open the trapdoor that lead to the basement area. Willow knelt beside the opening and called out.
"Spike? Spike, are you down there?" She paused, waiting for a response that didn't come. "Spike, it's Willow. I need to talk to you."
When no response was forthcoming, she shrugged and stood up, looking around for the best place to leave a note. She crossed the room to the TV and pulled a piece of notebook paper out of her bag. She hurriedly scribbled a note and placed the paper on top of a larger packet of papers stapled together. She set the entire pile on top of Spike's television. Taking one last look around, she turned to leave.
"Stupid vampires, supposed to be sleeping during the day," she muttered to herself as she walked back out into the sunshine.
* * * * *
"Consider this an early Christmas present, Slayer. We've released fifty of our little friends around town just for you. Hope you like it. We didn't keep the receipt."
Buffy looked up from reading aloud the note that had been wrapped around the stake in the mannequin's hand. The Scoobies were gathered around the table in the Magic Box later that evening. Books piled atop one another covered the table as research continued for information on the diamond stolen from the museum, and what type of demon might want it. So far, their research had uncovered very little. To add to that, now they had to deal with a infestation of giant, possibly demon spiders.
"So," Xander asked, "are these like those whatzit spiders we traded with the Mayor for Willow?"
"Definitely no," Buffy said. "These are like the extra large super- sized version of those."
Giles, Xander, and Willow all shifted restlessly, remembering the Mayor and his box of spiders.
"The mannequin's at the house," Buffy continued explaining what had happened the night before. "I didn't really want to bring it inside. I mean it could be just a creepy person-sized doll…"
"Or it could be a bomb or a spy device or something," Xander added.
"Or something," Buffy agreed. "Plus, it had to have been covered in all those spiders, and, ewww…"
The group collectively shivered, each imagining being stuck at the center of a nest of giant spiders.
"How did you get out?" Dawn asked. "Did you have a knife?"
Buffy looked away a moment before answering. "No, we didn't have a knife."
"And?" the teen prodded.
"Let's just say Spike's fangs got more of a workout last night than they have in a long time."
The group stared at her incredulously.
Finally Xander broke the silence with a laugh. "You made him chew you out?"
"Well it was either that or wait for the spiders to do it!" the Slayer defended herself to the now laughing group at the table.
The image of that stopped the laughter cold, as the focus of the gathering returned to the newest Hellmouth creature-feature.
Before anyone could comment further, the door to the basement swung open and Spike stood in the doorway, clutching some papers in his hand. His gaze immediately focused in on Willow.
"Where did you get these, Red?" he demanded.
"I'm guessing that's a big yes in the accuracy department," she responded.
"Where did you get them?" Spike repeated, deadly serious, ignoring Willow's comment.
"Are they accurate?" she responded, not at all intimidated by his glare.
"Yes." Spike nodded curtly, deciding that answering her question would lead to getting his own answered.
"How accurate?"
"Very," he said shortly. "Now, where did you get them?"
"One of my teachers, he gave them to us as a reading assignment," Willow responded. "As fiction. I recognized some of the, um, events from previous research. I wondered how much was true."
"Um," Buffy began, raising her hand to get Willow and Spike's attention. "What are we talking bout here?"
"This," Spike said, throwing the papers down in front of her. She read the title aloud. "'The Scourge of Europe?'"
"One of my classes," Willow explained. "Cultural Studies in Mythology. We talk about myths and stories and how and why people use them to deal with things they don't understand. We spent the first part of the semester talking about, um, death and grief. Professor Gage argues that mythologies about heaven, hell, re-incarnation, and a variety of others are man's way of coping with something he can't control or ever hope to fully understand." She smiled, "Which was kind of ironic. Cuz, you know, what with all the research I was doing for the, uh, resurrection spell."
Buffy winced, but quickly recovered and asked, "Why are you reading this if you're talking about grief?"
"Oh, we're done with that section," the witch responded, waving her hand dismissively. "Now, we're talking about fears and, um, things that go bump in the night."
"And this?" Buffy asked, pointing at the reading packet.
"He said it was fiction," Willow responded. "but, like I said, I thought I recognized some of the stuff in it."
"Is it a true account of…" Buffy trailed off, unsure of how to refer to the glory days of the Scourge.
"Of the good old days?" Spike finished for her, smirking. However, the smirk was quickly replaced by a frown as he confirmed Willow's suspicion. "Yeah. It's, it's more than that."
He looked around apprehensively at the group and steeled himself before continuing. "You probably noticed, Red, that it's written like a, uh-"
"A journal?" she prompted.
"Right. A journal." He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before confessing, "It is."
Buffy glanced down and read the italicized words preceding the text aloud.
"Excerpts from the diary of William the Bloody."
There was a collective gasp from the Scoobies that was almost comical as all heads in the room except Willow's turned to look at Spike in surprise.
"This is your diary?" Buffy asked.
"Yeah." Spike admitted with a scowl. "Parts of it, anyway. It's from the, uh, high years, as it were."
"The high years?" Dawn asked.
"Me and Dru and Angelus and Darla," he began. "From the time I was turned until the poof got his soul. Those were the high years. Of the Scourge. Me, I'm still going strong."
Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike's need to re-affirm his badness to the group and did some quick math in her head. "So, we're talking about what, a twenty year span?"
"Yeah," the vampire said. "Something like that. Course I had more than just one journal during that time. This is from the first one, though. I didn't go by William the Bloody for long."
"I guessed," Willow said. "The first, um, entry talks about you, um, waking up."
An uneasy silence fell around the table, as they remembered another member of the group who had recently clawed her way out of a coffin.
"The question is," Tara said, attempting to re-focus the others. "How did Willow's teacher get a hold of it?"
"I lost it," Spike shook his head ruefully at the memory. "We got run out of town more than once by a mob and lots of stuff got left behind. Angelus always had a bloody fit. 'Specially 'bout this."
"Why?" Dawn asked.
"Well, Bit," Spike looked sheepish for a second before his Big Bad persona slipped back into place. "I, ah, might have been the reason for the mobs, more often than not. Angelus always did prefer the stalking and mind games to the fight. As for that," he gestured at the papers Buffy still held. "He wasn't too happy about the idea of someone finding it and using it to track us. Some nonsense about patterns and such."
"Well, I know I'm finding this absolutely fascinating," Xander said sarcastically, "But we care why? I mean, so some professor has one of Spike's old journals. He thinks it's fiction, right? So, other than reading about the blood and gore of 'the high days,' what's the big deal?"
"Can I read it?" Dawn asked, reaching for the packet.
"No!" Spike grabbed it from Buffy's grasp. Seeing Dawn's hurt look, he explained. "It's private, Bit. It'd be just like me reading your diary."
"So," Buffy said. "Do we have a problem or not?"
"Oh!" Willow exclaimed, remembering. "He was here today. Professor Gage. To talk to Giles. Anya said he was coming back tomorrow."
"Did he say when?" Spike asked.
The shopkeeper shook her head. "No. But he did ask how late we were open, so I would guess late."
"Okay," Buffy said. "Will, you keep an eye on him in class tomorrow. See what he says. I'll clue Giles in in the morning and we'll go from there. As for the spiders, I'll try to catch one on patrol and see if that will give us any more info. Sound good?"
The others nodded. Buffy noticed that Spike had slipped out the door while she was speaking. She shrugged and looked at Willow.
"So dish, Will," Buffy smiled and leaned in. "Was it bad? I mean, you read it, right?"
Willow shrugged. "It wasn't anything worse than stuff we've already come across about Spike or Angel. But, I don't really think I should talk about it. It, it feels like a violation of privacy. I mean, it's his diary. And, it's written like that. From his perspective and stuff." *If anything,* the witch continued to herself, *it makes his seem more human.*
tbc
+++++
A/N: WOW! Thanks for all the nice feedback, again, guys! You made my day! I hope the spiders were creepy enough – I give myself the willies with those things. Next chapter will be more in-dept with Willow's class, for all of you clamoring to find out more about our favorite villainous vampires.
My favorite one-liner: Season Five: "Listening to Fear." (Technically, this may qualify as a two-liner; I'm not sure if Xander's line counts or is just set-up.) The Scoobies are at the University library's astronomy section to research the Queller demon:
Xander: I still don't get why we had to come here to get info about a killer snot monster.
Giles: Because it's a killer snot monster from outer space…I did not say that.
