Chapter 15-- The Third Degree

Spike had gathered up a dozen or so minions, mostly vampires, but with a scattering of the bigger demon types. I wasn't surprised to see Buffy and her sister calmly sitting in the midst of this troop, holding court.
.
There was Buffy: wild at heart and blondly beautiful, playing the queen in a crumbling tomb filled with demons when she should be sitting under the palms by the pool sipping a cocktail with her husband.
Her sister, all big frightened eyes, sat at her feet. Her thin hands making swirling patterns in the candle-lit gloom.
Along the perimeter of the big room, stalked the dangerous prince-consort, one hand in his duster pocket, the other slicing the air as he conferred with the various factions, his eyes in constant, watchful motion.
Here I was, in the middle of a plot against my former employer, escorting a voluptuous assassin with a taste for the blues. It's a crazy old world, but I hadn't any better place to be.

Anyanka followed me inside, nodded stiffly to Buffy, then ignored me to talk to a tall wrinkly palooka. She wasn't going to forgive me anytime soon. I followed Spike downstairs to discuss the plans for a possible sewer assault on the Stake. The glamour assignment.

In the small group downstairs, I recognized a face in the crowd. The rabbity guy from earlier was skulking around in the shadows, clearly avoiding someone. Spike caught my look and I clued him in on our earlier confrontation.
He grinned unpleasantly and cut his golden eyes sideways.

I'll take care of this nance, he said, You might to put the Slayer wise. I started upstairs reluctantly. When I looked down from the top step, Spike had moved inhumanly fast to hoist the Rabbit one-handed into the air. Like a cat with a sparrow.

. I gave Buffy the rumble, but she wasn't in any hurry to go to the kid's rescue, Yeah, I saw him come in. Spike can deal with him. She started to walk away, but I stopped her. I had a lot on my mind.

Listen, I know I'm out of line here and this is none of my business, but why? What's the real reason for all this? She knew I wasn't asking about the Rabbit and paused. She considered giving me the big brush-off. I needed to know, not just about her, but for me, too. What was really keeping her here in the dark when there were a thousand sunlit days to live in?
Love, she said finally. It's all about love. You don't pick and choose who you love or don't love. You just do.

But.. why them?

It's not because they're demons, if that's what you think. It's what's inside the heart of a person, no matter what they look like. Maybe you can't understand me now, she paused and looked over at Anyanka. Maybe one day you will.

I thought about Oz again. I'd held onto the thought that it was all about finding the murdering fiend that had torn him to bloody gobbets: Revenge and justice for me to deal out. But she was right about one thing, at the bottom, it was about love. It had been love that killed Oz. A love that was all about greed and sex and jealousy. It was the need for power that drove Giles: A rapacious, sick compulsion to hold onto a woman who no longer loved him that made him a monster. To make her love him again. To make her into something she wasn't. Well, that and to rule the world, apparently.
What about Spike?

I can't think about how I feel right now and he knows it. We've got to get through this in one piece. She looked to the passage that led downstairs and I saw it in her eyes.

He truly does love me, even without a soul. There's good in him. I know it. I believe he would die for my sister and me.

I figured she was right, even though I'd never seen any one of the soulless beings that gave a rat's ass about a breathing human being. But like they say, things change.

I felt a cool presence nearby and there was Spike standing silently at her left hand. Their eyes met with a high-voltage charge and I wished I was elsewhere.

He turned finally and raised an eyebrow to me, Expect he'll tell you whatever you want to know now. He reached out a hand to help the Slayer down the steps and I noticed a single drop of blood on one white fingertip. The scarlet drop stuck to the sleeve of her cashmere sweater.

Downstairs, two of the larger minions held the slight figure of the gunsel between them loosely. Spike growled very low, deep in his throat, wearing the daunting game-face along with a tigerish grin, Well, Andrew. Any last requests?

The rabbit looked ready to collapse from fright but otherwise, seemed physically unhurt. I wondered how Spike managed to to inspire such dread. He was obviously dominant over the pack of physically larger and powerful minions. They shifted and gave the smaller vampire plenty of elbow room. The room reeked with fear, and not all of it from our little rodent.
He grabbed Andrew's face in an easy three-fingered grip. I could hear bones creak. The kid squealed and squirmed. Poor bastard. Spike eased up, then started in again, all humor gone now, just a silent dead-eyed gaze. He hadn't asked the kid a single question. Tears poured down and dripped off the suffering kid's chin, then he squawked out a single word.


Spike stepped away and deferred to Buffy.

Andrew? You remember me, don't you, she whispered sweetly. He nodded and gasped for breath. You want to help me, right? Tell me about Tara, please.

He shivered and wriggled in his captors grasp, slime and tears making a mess of his white shirt. He stank of fear and other things. She didn't say another word, just looked at him impassively as he fought with himself. His white shirt turned gray with sweat and I spotted a trickle of blood crawling down his arm where someone's claws had dug in too tightly.

It's Giles. Giles! He gave in suddenly and sagged in defeat. He's gonna call on an aspect of Chaos to siphon off the power of the Hellmouth. The Star--- Tara. Then, we couldn't shut him up. He started to babble hysterically. He's got the scroll and She is translating it for him and when they're ready, the world be be on fire! My magic bone! Giles has it. He stole it! I need it back. I told you, you've got to stop him and get my bone. You'll see, the ritual will be wrong with it. It'll all be wrong. Krodharati, not sGrol-ma! Not Ishtar! It'll be the Other. I can help you with it, I promise. If I have my bone. I need it! He finished in a rush with another plaintive cry. Poor kid.

tbc
AN: Yes, i know, the Magic Bone is really Jonathan's, but I adore Andrew.
Music for this section: afrika shox--leftfield/ feat. afrika babaaataa