SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Chapter 12 – Restless Spirits

"Faith…?" Angel said, stunned.

"Surprised?"

"Um, yeah…I thought you were—"

"Dead?  No.  I pulled a Buffy. You know—died, but came back."

"R…right."

"So, why are you looking for Cam?"

"Cam?  Oh, uh, you mean—Cameron Grey.  I uh…it's just that…uh…  Where is he anyway?"

"He's at the retreat.  Left a few days ago.  I'm sort of apartment-sitting."

"Retreat?"

"Yeah, the annual Watchers' retreat.  I hear Giles actually got invited to go this year…"

* * *

 "Oh why did I come to this thing?" Giles muttered as he sat alone on a scratchy wool blanket, ten feet away from the rest of the group.

Wistfully, he glanced over at the other Watchers sitting around the evening bonfire, seemingly having a good time.  But Giles was too nervous to think about fun.  He had a presentation to give in the morning.

Damn that Cameron Grey! 

It was all that young Watcher's fault.  If Grey hadn't been so persuasive, convincing Giles less than two weeks earlier—to speak at the retreat…

Sighing, Giles fumbled with a stack of color-coded index cards that he'd prepared a few days earlier.  If only they'd asked him to talk about some other subject—say, trans-dimensional portals, ancient demi-gods, or even Slayer P.M.S. and how to deal with it—then he might have been able to speak competently.

But no, his topic was entirely different and just thinking about it gave him polliwogs.

Squinting, he held a mint green card up to eye level and read,  "Habit number one—be proactive…"

The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People was not a subject most Watchers were familiar with—Giles included.  Originally, Grey had intended for Stephen Covey to speak in person at the retreat, but sadly, Mr. Covey had been otherwise engaged.  Thus, Giles had been a last minute replacement.

He shuffled through the stack and pulled out a second card, this one salmon pink.  "Er, habit number two—"

"Rupert!"  Looking casually elegant in khaki slacks and a Ralph Lauren navy blue sweater, Cameron Grey dropped down next to Giles.  "How are the Seven Habits coming?"

Giles forced a smile and looked at Grey with bewilderment.  "I…uh—"

"Oh, I know you'll be fine.  Better than fine.  You'll be superb.  You'll blow them away.  You know in all the years this organization has existed, not once have we ever considered proper management training for our people.  I feel it's simply shocking that I'm the only Watcher here with an M.B.A."

"Yes, well, perhaps—"

"Oh, and by the way," Grey lowered his voice, "I've heard some rumblings about that Spike fellow and his charge…"

"Buffy."

"Yes.  There's been a great deal of gossip about his absence here—that he's skipped off to Hawaii with her and that he's been dating her for some time now."

"Yes, well…" Giles looked away uncomfortably.

"Is it true?"

"I—I'm…afraid so."

"Indeed."  Grey looked thoughtful.  "Then he's setting a precedent, isn't he?  Although, I daresay that it's not necessarily a bad one…"

Giles was silent for a moment then frowned.  "Good God man, you're not thinking of…but she's only fifteen!"

"Don't be ridiculous!"  Grey laughed.  "I wouldn't dream of…that.  No, I was thinking of someone else…"

"Ah."  Giles smiled.  "I think I understand."

"Yes.  Well, you'd be blind if you didn't." Grey added, amused.  His voice then grew softer, serious.  "Rupert?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad…that it was you I called…last month…and not…"

Giles nodded.  "You did the right thing."

* * *

"You sound good."

"Thanks.  I guess I'm getting there."

"And this Cameron fellow…"

"He's helped me out—a lot.  And I think…I've helped him back."

"How so?"

"Well, with training Hope and patrolling, you know, stuff like that.  The kid was a mess…but I think she's getting better."

"I'm glad."

"I am too.  I think…for the first time in my life…I've got a real purpose, you know.  I'm not just wasted space."

"You never were, Faith—"

"You're a terrible liar, Angel."

The vampire smiled.

"But getting back to why you called.  How did you get this number?  And why are you looking for Cam?"

"I, uh, actually found his name and number in the pocket of a black trench coat, but I've no idea who the coat belongs to—"

"I do."

"Really?"

"Yeah.  Black trench?  It's got to be Dominick's.  He works for Cam, but he's gone missing.  He's supposed to check in every night, only he hasn't, not for a couple of days now…"

* * *

Outside the hotel, Spike levitated in front of a third floor window, peering in at the Slayer who lay, wrapped in his leather coat, asleep.  Dru had been right.  He really could whim himself to wherever he wanted to be.  And the winds had brought him here.

Taking pause, he noticed the layer of grime that appeared to seal the window shut. 

Not a problem.   He leaned forward and fell through the glass, into the room.

Inside, he heard Buffy moan softly and saw her turn over.  Spike stopped.  Did she sense him?

He moved over to the bed and stared down at her, immediately noticing her eyelids fluttering back and forth.

"Ah, dreaming about me, pet?" TC \l1 "

And as if in response, she murmured his name.  Her brow then furrowed and she turned away from him.

Transfixed, he sat down on the bed, admiring her hair, spread out over the pillow like a gilded fan.  He'd always loved it so.  The way it shimmered and almost glowed.  He stretched his hand towards her, but stopped himself.  He so wanted to touch her; feel her warmth. 

But he couldn't.

And it was torture.  Bitterly, he wondered if he were better off somewhere else, away from her.

Then she shifted again, toward him, once more murmuring his name.  Slowly, he lay down alongside her, stretching out, toe to toe, his face to hers.  He closed his eyes.

"Sleep, luv," he whispered.  "Sleep."

A restless spirit, he'd traveled many miles that night, but now, nestled close to the woman he loved, he'd found—at least temporarily—peace.