Last two chapters I promised before last Friday are here. Site was down but they were perfected on Thursday.
I'll probably slow down a bit now, considering I've written a LOT in the past week and a
half. I'll try for two to three chapters a week until the story is done. I still have
other outstanding projects.
Chapter 9's POV is solely Willow's. As my second favorite, she gets her own.
Chapter 10's POV's alternate between Dawn & Buffy. You'll find out why.
Chapter 9
Whispers Can Be Deadly
* * * * *
"What is it?" Tara asked, coming out of the kitchen, a large bowl of microwave popcorn in her hands.
"My guess is a witch," said Dawn, coming from behind Tara, holding a tray with a pitcher and two large glasses filled with ice. "Are you sure you don't want to ditch patrol and watch a movie with us? We're going to watch Titanic until we both fall asleep."
I rolled my eyes comically. "Sorry. I promised Xander I'd meet him in the graveyard in about ten minutes. You two enjoy the movie... and keep an eye on Buffy. I think she's been drinking again."
Tara and Dawn both followed my gaze upstairs and I saw Dawn flinch slightly. "She still on the outs with Giles?"
"I don't know," I replied honestly as I pulled my coat on and buttoned it up. "Have a good night you two. Dawn, I want you in bed when I get home. Even growing sophomores need their sleep."
"Yes, Mom," Dawn replied as she and Tara disappeared into the living room. With a sigh and a last glance back upstairs, I pulled open the front door and closed it behind me, reaching for my car keys inside. I got in the car, started it, and backed slowly out of the driveway. In the four minute drive to the cemetary, I started thinking. I was sure Buffy hadn't been drinking. She'd been with Giles for pity's sake, and Giles rarely drank around her. Still, she had a glow about her, and when she scampered inside, she was only wearing a tight silvery top and her shoes. That had looked even stranger. Giles must've given her the shower after she'd been walking through the rain. It was the only logical explanation.
I was so in tuned with my thoughts that I nearly hit the motorcycle parked on the edge of the cemetary. Knowing Giles would have driven out here, I was shocked to see Spike standing by the entrance, in conversation with both Anya and Xander.
"... and she acts like it was no big deal," Spike was growling. "Just a little nightshirt and a smug stare. All that Slayer has been about was going at it with the Watcher."
"Who the what with huh?" I asked, walking up behind him. "What about Buffy?"
Xander looked baffled while Anya stood beside him, extremely amused. "Buffy was at Giles' house wearing only the silver shirt we selected today. I swear, that thing is made from dragon scales. Then she told Spike that she and Giles had been all cuddly, because his shirt looked wrinkled, like he'd just pulled it on, and Buffy was on the couch, trying to cover herself up. Very suspicious if you ask me."
"You're concerned about a nasty rumour?" I gasped, turning to Spike. "Buffy would never do anything like that with Giles."
"I wouldn't be too sure," Anya replied. "Today he was practically hating her guts, the insides and the outside part too. Maybe even the intestinal area-"
"An, honey, do you have a point?" Xander asked, sounding disgusted.
"Of course I do," she snapped, turning back to Spike and I. "All I'm saying is that something must have been going through his mind if at one point today he hated her and now he's welcoming her into his house and his shower. She must have apologized to him."
"Is that what you people call apologizing?" Spike asked, lighting a cigarette in the dim twilight glow. "Because I frankly found it sick."
I shook my head in disbelief. "Enough! It's bad enough you're accusing Buffy of doing something that ridiculous, but now you're implying that Giles saw it as that?"
"He was standing right there, and he took her hand, and they looked very cuddly," Spike replied, flicking his cigarette with disinterest. "I'm almost certain they're 'together'."
I tried not to look at Xander for fear we would both start laughing. "What is it to you anyway? You don't love her. Not anymore."
"But Giles?" he asked, his voice taking on a slight whining note. "Surely she could choose someone better."
"What's wrong with Giles?" Xander finally asked, trying to force himself to remain with a serious face and tone of voice. "He's a very well distinguished man..."
"He wears tighty white-y's," Anya spoke out, with a crisp nod.
Spike choked out the smoke as he turned to glance at Anya through slitted lids. "And how, by chance, would you know what he bloody wears?"
"We bought them today," Anya replied in a subdued voice. Her averted gaze through told us she was lying though. I figured she saw them when he bent over or something.
"I wonder if she's seen what's inside those tighty-"
"Spike!"
He glanced at Xander, then at me, his eyes narrowing. "Bloody gits, the both of you. Don't you ever wonder what's been going on between those two?"
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous," I retorted.
His eyebrows rose as he threw the cigarette butt aside. "You think I'm jealous of him? I could win her over in a second. The bad boy darkside ritualistic animal slaughter, that's the fantasy her dreams are made of."
"What if she's beyond all the vampires and demons?" Xander asked. "She might really be into him."
"Please," Spike scoffed. "He's old."
"And you're just cannon fodder?" Anya asked, finally defending Xander and me. "Please. You have two hundred years on Giles."
Spike rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. At least I'm not shagging the Slayer."
I nearly burst it there. The only thing that stopped me was Xander's quiet look of pain. It was as though he were fighting with himself about whether to defend Buffy's honor or question it. "Buffy would never do that," he finally said quietly.
"She really wouldn't. You don't know her like we do."
"But when the Slayer really wants something, she won't stop until she's had it. Look at the last two of her conquests," Spike admonished us. "Vampire with a soul and a military geek with as much credibility as broccoli. If she wants someone safe, it's best with Watcher man."
"Giles wouldn't do anything with her," Anya said. "He's much too young for her type."
Spike cast his eyes at her again and shook his head in ridicule. "I'm just saying that the Slayer doesn't play the innocent game anymore. Her time for sleeping is over."
"I wouldn't say that," I said, my voice slightly shaky.
"Why not?"
"Because our time may be up," I said, pushing Anya out of the way. Just beyond her, three vampires and another one of those annoying one-horned demons had gathered, drawing closer.
Spike sprang out first, quickly take the first of the three vampires. Xander and Anya went for a second, leaving me to defend myself against a vampire and the stupid demon.
"I shall look upon my enemy," I began, lifting my hand. I could feel the power inside me welling. "I shall look upon them, and-"
My voice was cut off as the third vampire attacked, pushing me to the side. I screamed, a scream of surprise. As I fell, my ankle twisted as I landed. I cried out as the vampire stood and kicked me viciously. I gasped as I reached for something, anything, to hold onto as the cold-blooded demon lifted me up by my neck, throttling me. I scratched at his hands, trying to free myself. My brain was becoming fuzzy as I kept losing the oxygen. I could almost welcome the darkness.
Suddenly, something hit the vampire and I crumpled to the ground, clutching my throat, gasping for breath. From my position on the ground, I saw a flash of blonde and an explosion of ash, then the sound of swords clanking, followed by loud grunts, groans and another body falling near me.
I crawled over to see Anya slowly getting up, rubbing her temple. She glanced up and her gaze froze. I followed her gaze and glanced up. From the leather pants. To the leather coat. To the long blonde hair. "Buffy?"
She reached down and took my hand, helping me up first. Then she helped Anya up, although with less enthusiasm. Spike and Xander, both covered in grass and ash, came from behind. "Slayer," Spike said with a curt nod.
She didn't look at him. I could tell by the anger in her eyes that she had heard something. "Spike."
Ouch. Her words held a bite. His eyes widened and Anya moved instinctively closer to Xander.
As we walked away from the cemetary, I saw that she had walked out here, probably following me. "What are you doing out here?" I asked.
"Patrolling." Again, with a bite.
"Um, Buffy?" Xander asked gently. "Exactly how much of our conversation did you hear?"
She turned to us. By the fury in her hazel eyes, I could tell she'd heard enough. "Every. Damned. Word."
Uh oh.