Casa de Summers had, over the course of a few short days, become a very
lively place. Voices chattered non-stop, a shriek of laughter here, a whine
of complaint there; foot steps pounded up and down the stairs. The tell
tale sounds of teenage girls filled the house at all hours of the day and
night. And for the first time since the potential slayers had begun to
gather there, a sense of hope permeated the atmosphere. Buffy had beaten
the Turak Han.
In the kitchen, three people were gripped by guilt and despair.
"This is all our fault."
Willow and Xander stood staring at each other as Anya's words ripped away what little comfort they had gained from the night's victory.
"I don't understand," Xander said slowly, grappling with the enormity of what she had just told them. "This giant eyeball thing said that bringing Buffy back is what brought the First Evil down on us all?"
"Not in so many words." Anya leaned against the island, arms wrapped around her middle as she stared at the floor. "It said the disturbance was caused by the slayer. And that it was recent." She looked up at him, then turned her gaze to Willow. "Well, if being resurrected wasn't a big disturbance in the line of the Chosen One, I don't know what is."
Willow's eyes were filled with anguish and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. "Oh, God..." A shaky whisper escaped her. "This is all my fault. It was my idea to do the spell. It's all my fault..."
Xander stepped up in front of Willow and took her in his arms. "Hey, Will. It was all of us. You didn't force anyone. We all wanted her back." He pulled back a little and put his hand under her chin to make her look into his eyes. "And how could you know? It's not your fault."
"Yes. It is," came the voice of disagreement from behind him.
Xander's head snapped around, and he glared at Anya, Willow still encircled by his arms. "Ahn," he began warningly.
"Don't 'Ahn' me, Xander. Patting her on the back is not going to make it better. It is her fault. And mine. And yours. And Tara's. It's all our faults. But we don't have time to feel bad about it. We've got to figure out a way to fix this."
Willow pulled out of Xander's embrace, squared her shoulders and wiped her eyes. "She's right, Xander. We need to focus on beating the First Evil."
Anya shook her head. "It can't be beaten. Or destroyed. It's going to be here long after we are all dust."
"Well, what are we supposed to do then?" Xander threw his up in the air in frustration. "Sit around and wait for it to find an even bigger and badder minion to kick the crap out of Buffy? Invite the harbingers in for tea?"
Willow touched his arm, and he looked down at her. "If it's our fault that the mystical forces around the line of the Chosen have become vulnerable, then we need to figure out what we can do to stabilize them, to make them strong again."
Xander slumped forward, eyes downcast. "How, Willow? How do we do that?"
"I don't know."
Through a miasma of pain and hunger, Spike watched Buffy as she cleaned and dressed his wounds. The soft light of the bedside lamp seemed to make her face glow, and he marveled at every expression; how she scowled as she realized exactly how deep the symbols had been carved into his flesh, the way she pursed her lips when he tried not to flinch, her look of satisfaction when she was done. She finally looked into his eyes, smiling gently under his scrutiny.
His brow furrowed as he realized that she had a serious cut across her left cheek. Without even thinking, he brushed his fingers lightly across her cheek. Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't start under his touch, and made no move to pull away from him.
"Had a bit of a run in with the big nasty, did you?" His arm shook with exhaustion and he let his hand dropped away from her face.
She nodded. "Yeah. I didn't have a handy organ to drop on it, so I tried using a load of metal pipes. I think it was a little pissed off about that." She shrugged. "But he let anger get the best of him and he lost his head."
Spike started to chuckle, then winced. "I don't know which is more painful - that pun, or laughing. I think it's a tie."
She made a face at him, then smiled once more. "You need to get some rest. But first, something to eat." She twisted around and grabbed the mug of blood she'd brought up with her off the nightstand, then turned back to him. "C'mon, scootch over a bit."
"Scootch? I'll have you know that vampires don't 'scootch'. We move with dangerous, sinuous grace."
"Spike!"
"Scootching."
She helped him sit, propping him up with a few pillows, and settled in beside him with the mug, holding the straw still with a finger. As he leaned in to drink, a quirky smile played across her lips. He gave her a questioning look.
"I'm just thinking about the last time I fed you blood out of this cup."
He looked down to discover she held the old, chipped 'Kiss the Librarian' mug, and he smiled back at her.
"Things have sure changed since then, pet."
She watched as he captured the straw between his lips and drank. "They certainly have, Spike."
Giles sat at the dinning room table, the few texts and manuscripts he'd saved spread out before him. Leaning back in his chair, he pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Buffy and Willow had given him the few books and documents they still possessed, but it wasn't nearly enough. Damn the council for refusing to decentralize. Too secure in their belief that they were invulnerable to attack, pride had been their ultimate downfall - and now lifetimes worth of irreplaceable documents and reference books were gone forever.
He had a nagging feeling that he was overlooking something important, and he sincerely hoped that he would figure out what it was before it was too late to make a difference.
"You look tired," came a voice from beside him. He looked up to find Dawn standing there.
"I am."
She peered over to see what he'd been reading. "The Mythos of the Chosen? What are you looking for? Can I help?"
He almost refused her out of habit, but her eyes caught his, pleading with him to not shut her out. He nodded slowly. "Perhaps you might go on that computer of Willow's and see if you can find anything on the Internet."
Dawn sat down at the end of the table where the laptop sat open and booted it up. "What do you want me to look for?"
While Giles mulled over what he should ask her to search for, the feeling there was something he was missing right under his nose grew stronger. "Er, just start with a general search for anything about Slayers, specifically in regards to the Line of the Chosen. I'm not even quite sure what to look for."
Dawn nodded, and started her search. "I'll start with a couple of sites I have book marked. There is this one great archive that has all sorts of stuff. It's not very organized, but I found some really interesting stuff on B'lgesh demons there..."
"That's it!" Giles blurted out, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Good Lord, I must be getting daft in my old age!"
Dawn regarded him strangely. "A B'lgesh demon is it? Did I miss something?"
"Yes, actually. Just my utter idiocy." He shook his head and smiled at her. "Dawn, do you still have copies of all the books and documents that Willow and I archived the summer before Dracula came to Sunnydale?"
She thought for a second, then her face brightened into a smile. "Yeah! Willow burned everything onto CD's so we could have copies here, at the Magic Box and at Xander's. But we always ended up doing book research at the Magic Box before you left, and after that, we seemed to be able to find stuff so easily online..."
"And you forgot all about the archives."
She nodded and gave him a chagrined look. His mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Don't feel too badly. Willow and I spent over 4 months doing the archiving, and I forgot all about it till just now. Do you know where they are?"
The youngest Summers jumped up and rushed out of the room before he'd even finished speaking. He smiled at her exuberance, then started to jot down a list of things he wanted her to look for. Having her do this would serve a double purpose; it would help Dawn to feel useful and it would save him from having to work on that infernal machine.
The First wandered silent, invisible through the house, watching the frenetic activity in amusement. They scrambled and searched and trained and organized and planned... and all for naught. They had so little clue about the scope of what they were dealing with, the forces that were at work.
The slayer had defeated a Hellgod, but even the God had possessed a mere smattering of Its power. But ever, as always, the First was constrained to act within the Balance. It could only take advantage of the imbalance the slayer had caused, not tip the scales in Its own favour. If it acted rashly and did so, The Powers of Good would send an agent to aid them - to restore the balance. It could, however, apply a few well-placed nudges. Right now, Its goal was to carefully nurture the illusion they had about being on the right path. Slowly, but surely, the vulnerability of the Chosen line would increase as the dissonance in the mystic forces grew stronger. All It needed to do was wait.
Chloe's face was anxious. "You're going to leave us alone?" she asked, voice quavering just the slightest bit. Behind her, the other girls stood in a loose cluster, their individual body language portraying a range of emotions from hostility to dismay.
Buffy stood by the front door, trying very hard to be sympathetic with the potential slayers, but it was taxing her patience. She crossed her arms and drew a deep breath before replying. "I know you guys are scared. You have reason to be. But if I don't go back to work, there is no money coming in. That means I can't pay the mortgage, the electric and the water. And if you think it's been bad up till now, you've never had to deal with bill collectors." She scrunched up her nose for a second. "Actually, I think bill collectors are minions of the First. They're definitely evil enough." She stopped and looked them over, catching each of their eyes briefly before continuing.
"Besides, you aren't going to be alone. Anya and Giles are here. Xander will be back to check on you sometime during the day, Willow only has two classes today, so she'll be back around noon. And I'll be back with Dawn right after school."
Rona crossed her arms and looked at the floor while she spoke. "So, we're stuck here with your watcher, an ex demon, an injured vampire, and some guy who killed his friend?" She gave Buffy an incredulous look. "You'll pardon me for not feeling totally secure."
"Spike is not a danger to you."
"He bit me!" rang out an unwelcome voice from the front room. "He tried to ki-"
"Andrew, shut up."
Buffy rubbed her eyes, then looked back up at the six skeptical faces before her. "Yes, Spike did bite him. But he was under the control of the First at the time. It won't happen again. We figured out that he was being triggered by the First, and he's aware of it now. He can fight it."
"How do you know?" asked Vi, glancing up the stairs to where the vampire in question was sleeping. "What if he can't, and he attacks us?"
Kennedy let out a sound of disgust. "Then I'll stake him." She shrugged and planted her hands on her hips. "I can't believe what wimps you guys are." She looked over at Buffy. "You had better stay alive. I shudder to think what might happen if one of them were called."
"I plan on it," she replied grimly. "And no staking of Spike. I didn't fight the Ubervamp and get him back so that you could make him all dusty." The girls all began to protest at this, and Buffy gave them a stern look. "No staking!"
Giles cleared his throat, and the hubbub quieted. "Someone will be with him at all times. If something untoward seems to be happening, he will be subdued before he can harm anyone."
"I am not going to become some vampire's breakfast just because you-"
"Buffy." Spike's voice cut Kennedy off mid tirade, and they all turned to find him shakily making his way down the stairs.
"Spike! You should be in bed!" Buffy moved towards the stairs, intent on escorting him back to her bedroom, but he shook his head and waved her away.
Finally, he reached the bottom step, took a moment to collect himself, then looked her in the eye. "Buffy, they have the right to protect themselves. You can't tell them not to. If I attack any one of them, they need to be able to stop me by whatever means necessary." He turned his gaze to Kennedy, who met it steadily. "If that turns out to be a stake, then so be it." He looked back to the Slayer. "I'm going to do my best to make sure that doesn't happen. If I start seein' things or hearing voices, I'll tell the Watcher. They can chain me up." His voice changed, pleading with her, self-loathing evident. "I can't live with the thought of hurting anyone else, Buffy. If there's a chance I might kill one of them because they've no choice but to try and keep me alive, I'll take a walk in the sun right now."
Cold dread twisted in Buffy's stomach as she looked into his face and knew with certainty that he meant it. "But you know what's happening now. You can fight it!" she insisted.
He chuckled mirthlessly. "I still don't know exactly how that wretched ponce manages to make me go all fangy, pet. I'm not willing to risk their lives on it." He spared a glance for Giles. "And no offence, Rupert, but if I suddenly got a mind to munch on one of these ladies, there wouldn't be a hell of a lot you could do to stop me - other than a stake through the chest, and you know it."
Buffy clenched her hands so tightly she felt her fingernails cutting into her palms. A second later, she saw Spike's nostrils flare as he caught the scent. She closed her eyes, let out a sigh of defeat then looked back up at the girls standing before her. "Okay. If something happens, do what you have to do. But only what you have to do." Again, her eyes locked with Kennedy's. "Only what you have to do, and no more. Please?"
"It's a deal," agreed the brunette, a satisfied look on her face.
With a final nod, Buffy walked out of the house. As she approached the car where Xander and Dawn were waiting for her, she wondered if Spike would still be there when she got home. And realized that the thought he might not caused far more anguish than she wanted to admit.
"This is hopeless."
Giles rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache gathering there. "Anya, I know the research is frustrating, but-"
"No, not the research," she replied impatiently. "These files! Who catalogued this? M'thris demons should be filed under the Kerzanti classification. This is a mess. Whoever did this really didn't know what they were doing."
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I did this. With Willow's help."
The look she gave him spoke volumes as to her opinion about that. "This whole database needs to be reorganized, Giles. I could use the same program I had for the inventory at the Magic Box and file things properly. It would be a lot easier to find things if they were cross referenced, and had a table of contents."
"Perhaps you could worry about organizing the files after we deal with the present threat?"
She gave him a sullen look before turning her attention back to the laptop in front of her.
With a sigh, Giles turned his attention back to the printouts stacked before him. He and Anya had been searching all morning for any solid reference to the mystical power surrounding the Chosen Line, but everything was maddeningly obscure. He was beginning to despair of ever finding anything useful.
A sudden gasp from Anya pulled his gaze to her. And the short man in a loud Hawaiian shirt and a fedora who was suddenly leaning against the table near her.
"Whistler." He enunciated the name carefully, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
The newest addition to the room smiled at him and spread his arms expansively. "The one and only."
"Thank God," Giles muttered under his breath.
Whistler glanced down at Anya then back over at Giles. "How you got a Vengeance demon on your side still has the powers all abuzz, you know?" he clapped his hands and rubbed them together.
"I doubt that you've appeared here just to tell us about how we managed to startle the Powers that Be." Giles retorted. "If there is something useful that you have to share with us regarding the current crisis, it would be most welcome."
"Yeah," the slight demon agreed. "But, hey. I'm a little parched. They don't keep a lot of liquid refreshment in the upper realms, if you know what I mean." His expression turned hopeful. "Don't suppose you've got anything to drink in the house?"
"I was just considering putting on some tea, actually..."
"Giles! Who is this man, and how did he know about my past?" Anya demanded.
"He's a demon. And he works for the Powers That Be. Helping to maintain the balance."
She turned to Whistler and addressed him directly. "With the Powers? You do realize that when doing such important work, a good first impression is essential. Do you have any idea what a terribly fashion statement you are making? It took me two years to get Xander to part with those horrible shirts. You really should think about trying something in a nice solid colour."
Giles felt the tension headache blossom into a full-fledged migraine. "Or perhaps a good, stiff shot of scotch might be in order."
Whistler smiled beatifically. "Now you're speaking my language."
Vi and Molly sat in Buffy's room talking with Spike in something akin to awe. Fear and trepidation were beginning to give way to admiration, and perhaps just a bit of a crush on the part of both girls.
"So, you and the Slayer have been working together for over four years then?" asked Molly, sitting cross-legged on the bed near Spike's feet. "I'm well and truly gobsmacked."
Vi leaned forward in the bedside chair she occupied. "My Watcher told me that Vampires were totally evil and could never change." She looked troubled. "Does this mean... were they wrong? Was the Council wrong?"
"First off," Spike corrected, "I wouldn't say four years. Yeah, it was about then that we called a truce to fight Angelus, but that was in my own self-interest. And it was almost a year and half later before I started to willing help the Scoobies out. And secondly-"
Molly's curious voice cut him off. "Scoobies?"
He sighed. "S'what the Slayer's little band of friends used to call themselves. Still do, I reckon." He chuckled as he thought back to the first time he'd ever watched them come up with a plan. "I'm still not quite sure how that raggle taggle mob managed to thwart me at every turn. Had a good lot to do with sheer, blind luck I'd imagine. But, back to what I was saying."
He tapped Vi's hand lightly, then shook a finger at her. "You mind your Watcher, young lady. What he's telling you, you don't forget that. I was totally evil. I wanted nothing better than death and blood and mayhem. It took getting a Government Issue microchip in my brain to make that stop. I'd still be killing today if that hadn't happened." He gave her a wry smile. "Actually, s'lot more likely I'd be a dust pile behind the Bronze or some such right now. Buffy would have put me out of her misery long before now if I'd still been evil."
"So what really happened?" came a new voice from hallway. The three of them looked up to find Kennedy lounging in the doorjamb, obviously listening in on the conversation. "I mean, you had minions. You were a Master Vampire! If you had wanted to be evil, you still could have been." Her casual demeanor belied the steel in her voice. "What made a totally evil, though chipped, demon like you decide that you needed a soul?" She took a step into the room, nonchalantly pulling a stake from the back of her waistband as she approached the bed.
"Kennedy!" Vi let out a panicked squawk. "You promised Buffy!"
The brunett inspected the point of the stake, ignoring her nervous counterpart. Molly quickly scrambled off the bed to stand in front of her. "He hasn't done anything! You can't hurt him."
Kennedy looked the other girl up and down and then shook her head. "I'm not here to hurt him - unless, of course, he's lying. Unless this is just some big scheme on the part of the First to get an agent in this house and lull us into false sense of security so that it can kill us unsuspecting. I just want to know that I can trust him." She stepped around Molly to look down at Spike where he sat back against the headboard. "Can I, Spike? Can I trust that you won't go all evil again and try to tear our throats out? Can I trust that this whole soul thing that you seem to have the Slayer and her friends convinced of - well, except for Xander, he doesn't seem to trust you - isn't just some elaborate ruse?"
"You do realize that you're a raving paranoid," Molly commented, earning a dark look for her troubles.
Kennedy stood fast for a moment and looked for all the world as if she was ready to plunge the stake into Spike's chest. Then she sighed tiredly and and backed away, tucking the stake back into the waistband of her jeans. "Yeah. But I'd rather be paranoid then dead."
"You keep thinking that way, pet," instructed Spike. "That's the kind of thing that's going to keep you alive."
She nodded at him, still somewhat wary, then addressed Molly and Vi. "It's my turn to stand watch now. You guys can go."
Vi skirted around Kennedy and shot out of the room. Molly glanced back at Spike, then caught Kennedy's eyes. "You're not supposed to be watching him alone."
"Chole will be up in a minute."
"You're not going to do anything foolish?"
Kennedy rolled her eyes. "If he keeps his teeth to himself, he gets to stay undusty. I promise I'll only do what I absolutely have to do."
Molly gave her a curt nod and walked out of the room, leaving Kennedy and Spike to face each other. He gave her a smirk. "I bet your interpritation of what you absolutely have to do is a little bit looser than what Buffy had in mind."
As she sat in the chair Vi had just vacated, she set her stake in her lap and gave him wintry smile. "I bet you're right."
Andrew meandered aimlessly throughout the house, trying to engage the pre- slayers in conversation, but his efforts were singularly unsuccessfully. After trying to wheedle his way into helping with the research, he earned a scolding from Anya that set his face flaming. He stayed away from where she and Giles were working after that.
He'd been lying on the couch staring morosely at the floor for the better part of the morning when he noticed a book wedged under the coffee table. Curious, he pulled it Free. His eyes widened in surprise when he realized it was a book of incantations and charms. He glanced around surreptitiously, before opening it and beginning to read.
"Occludo!"
"Gah!" Andrew jumped back as the book snapped shut, almost catching his nose in the process. He looked up to find Willow standing there, hands clasped together before her. She did not look pleased.
Xander stood beside her, giving him a stony look. "Oh, just what we needed, a homicidal dork mucking around with magic behind our backs during a possible apocalypse." He stepped forward and relieved Andrew of the book "I think not."
"I just wanted to help," he whined, sulking. "I could be, you know, all noble and use my powers for good and stuff like that."
"News flash, Nemesis-boy. You don't have any powers. And even if you did, we wouldn't want them."
Andrew started to protest, and Xander held up a hand to stem the flow. "Ah- ah! Remember what Buffy said. Do you want to star in Misery, The Sunnydale Story?" The young man quailed and sat back on the couch with a whimper.
Willow 's threw Xander a questioning glance. "Misery?" she mouthed silently. Xander gave her a motion that said 'tell you later', and reached up to place the book on the top of the bookshelf. With a stern parting glance from Willow, the two of them left him in the front room and went to check on Giles and Anya's progress.
Papers and books were piled on the dinning room table, but no one was there. Willow looked questioningly at Xander.
"Maybe they're up with Spike," he guessed with a shrug. They were about to head back towards the stairs when they heard Giles's voice coming from the kitchen. "Or not." He walked back across the room to push through the adjoining door. "Hey, G-man, how goes the..." He stopped short, and Willow almost walked right into him. "Ahh... who is this?"
"Whistler," offered the man who was standing at the island constructing a large sandwich. He piled on a few more pickles, slapped a slice of bread on the top and cut the sandwich in two. Picking up a piece, he took a huge bite, a blissful expression on his features as he chewed.
Xander paled. "Giles, please tell me that's not another musical type demon!"
Giles was sitting at the island nursing a tumbler of scotch. "No. Just a 'bearer-of-unwelcome-information-in-the-form-of-cryptic-clues' type."
"Whistler," Willow spoke, frowning. "That name sounds familiar. I remember Buffy saying something about a demon named Whistler, once."
"One in the same," the demon assured her, before taking another bite.
"It turns out that there might be more going on than just the resurrection spell," Anya supplied. "He says that Buffy did something." She glared at the demon for a moment then looked back to Xander and Willow. "But he won't tell us what."
"Can't," Whistler corrected her as she wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I'm here to see that the balance is preserved. It's not my place to give you all the answers."
"And why not?" demanded Xander. "You're here telling us there's something more going on. Why can't you just help us out a little?"
Whistler shook his head ruefully. "It's against the rules, kid. I give you too much information and it tips the scales. Then the First has a right to act directly to balance it all out." He sighed. "The First is only allowed to act through agents, just like the Powers that Be. That's the way it works. When It goes to far, pushes where It's not allowed to, then the Powers give you guys a little extra help. That's why I'm here. But trust me on this one, kid. You don't want me to tell you anything more than I already have, or the First will have the right to manifest corporeally. And then we won't be having anymore little conversations."
"Oh yeah? And why is that?"
Whistler picked up the other half of his sandwich. "Because you'll be dead." With that, he took a big bite. "Mmm. I love this dimension!"
Willow took a deep breath and put on her resolve face. "Okay. Maybe we don't want you to tell us more. But could you fill us in on the part that won't get us instantly killed by the First? You might have noticed that we sort of missed the telling part, what with the whole not being here thing going on."
Whistler nodded, and swallowed his bite. "Fair enough. I can tell you that I'm here because the vampire being kidnapped and bled dry was putting the foot over the line. That's why you guys are getting the heads up."
"Bled dry?" Anya had a puzzled look on her face. "Spike still had some blood in him when Buffy rescued him. He wasn't completely desiccated."
"Actually, he was," replied the demon, wiping mayo off his cheek after wolfing down the rest of his lunch. "The Powers intervened. And then sent me out." He grabbed the bottle of scotch from where it sat in front of Giles and poured himself two fingers worth. "It knows I'm here. It's furious about it, but It has to play by the rules." He looked up at Willow. "Time is running out. Your Slayer needs to deal with this before it gets any worse."
"For God's sake, man!" Giles thundered out, frustration oozing from every pore. "She's more than willing to do whatever it takes, just as she always has. But she needs to know what to do! We're rather in the dark about that!"
Whistler shrugged. "I can't tell you anything else. She has to figure this out herself."
"Could you at least give us a hint where she should start looking?" Willow pleaded. "Just a crumb?"
"I dunno," he hedged. "I suppose... well, okay, I can tell you this. The Slayer needs to reconsider what her Spirit Guide told her."
Willow's face screwed up in disbelief. "That's it?"
A bloodcurdling scream tore through the house.
Whistler sighed. "I told you, but you wouldn't listen. You just had to try and wheedle more information out of me, and now look."
Xander and Giles made a beeline for the stairs, Willow and Anya close on their heels. They almost ran into Vi, Rona and Molly, who had come up from training in the basement to see what was the matter. Xander caught Chloe as she came flying down the stairs, weeping in terror.
"H-h-h-he vamped out and a-a-attacked me! Kennedy slammed him into the w-w- w-wall, oh my God, HELP HER!" She clung to his arms. He gently disengaged her and handed her off to Molly before racing up to the bedroom, followed by the others. They arrived to find Kennedy and Spike circling one another warily, the proto-slayer with her stake ready, the vampire in full game face.
The men eased into the room, trying to flank Spike. He feinted towards Giles, then rushed Xander, and slammed him into the wall. Kennedy charged, stake held high, but a sweep kick knocked her back across the room and into Giles, tumbling them both out the door. Xander stared wide-eyed into Spike's face and realized that death was a very real possibility. The vampire snarled and lunged for his neck. Xander squawked when he felt fangs close over his jugular - but the expected pain did not come. He took a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Spike hadn't let him go, but he hadn't bitten him either. Yet.
Xander saw Kennedy approaching again, and he shook his head ever so slightly, afraid that the girl might trigger Spike into finishing the job. He took another deep breath, and when there was still no searing pain, he decided to take a chance.
"Spike?" His voice was easily a half octave higher than normal. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hey, Spike?" Xander tried to pull back a bit and crane his head over to see Spike's face, but it was hopeless. He felt the pressure over his jugular slacken, followed by an odd sensation. After a moment, Xander realized that Spike was speaking; the sensation was the feeling of the vampire's lips moving against his skin. He strained to hear what Spike was saying.
"I won't do it, I won't, I won't, you can't make me, I won't," Spike repeated the litany over and over. Xander looked up to see Willow coming slowly towards them. She gently touched Spike's shoulder and he shuddered at the contact, slowly pulling his head away from Xander's throat. Spike's game face melted away and he looked bleakly into the other man's eyes.
"I... Xander, I-"
Willow reached out once more, this time placing her hand on Spike's arm. He shifted his gaze to her. "Just let him go, Spike."
It was then Spike realized he still had Xander up against the wall, wrists pinned in his punishing grasp. He let go with alacrity, almost stumbling backwards in his effort to release Xander quickly enough. He kept backing away, stopping only when he hit the back of the bed. He slid down to the floor, wrapped his arms around his legs and began to rock back and forth. "It's never gonna stop, never. I'll never be free."
Xander stepped gingerly past the distressed vampire to where Giles stood watching. He rubbed his wrists, then brought a hand to his neck. "I thought I was nummy treats for sure. Xander tartare." He gave Giles a puzzled look. "What do you think stopped him?"
"I haven't the faintest."
Willow had settled on floor beside Spike, speaking soothingly, comfortingly as one might to a distraught child. Kennedy grabbed her stake from where it had fallen and started across the room with a purpose in her stride when Giles reached out and grabbed her arm.
"No," he said with quiet authority.
She looked at him, disbelieving. "No? What part of this did you miss? The part where he almost killed Chloe or the part where he was trying to kill me? Or maybe the part where he just about ripped out your friend's throat?"
"He didn't."
"Yeah, but he could have!" The young woman was shaking, the aftermath of the fear and adrenaline finally catching up with her. "Maybe next time he will! I'm not willing to bet my life that he can stay in control. I'd rather take my chances with the Harbringers - at least they're predictable!"
Whistler stepped into the room. "No, honey, you wouldn't." She looked at him askance. "This only happened because things were slightly out of Balance," he assured her, with a meaningful look at Xander and Giles. "It's extremely unlikely it's going to happen again." He looked at Spike on floor, and then moved his gaze to the empty bed. "Enough. The Balance has been restored for the time being." Whistler waited a moment, then frowned and crossed his arms. "Show's over. Curtain call, time for all the actors to show themselves."
There was a flash, and just as 'Eve' had winked out of existence in the basement, 'Buffy' winked in. She was sprawled out on the bed, leaning on her elbows and whispering in Spike's ear, inches from Willow. The witch recoiled at the sudden appearance of the First in the form of her friend.
"What the fuck?" Kennedy paled and took a step backwards. She shot Giles a look. "I thought this thing could only take the form of a dead person! Does that mean..."
"No," Giles assured her. "I'll explain later."
'Buffy' slowly turned her head to fix Whistler with a malevolent glare. "You're interfering, demon. You have no right."
Whistler looked bored. "Yeah. Whatever. Time to go, Morphy."
"Or what?" 'Buffy' mocked, then turned her attention back to Spike. "C'mon, Spike. You know you want to. She'd be so tasty. And then you know that Buffy would stake you for sure."
"Okay, that's it," Whistler said in an annoyed tone. "You know you've overstepped yourself." 'Buffy' ignored him and started to hum a tune. Spike jerked, his eyes starting to glaze over.
Whistler snapped his fingers. "Get out."
The air shimmered and 'Buffy' screamed with rage. The figure on the bed writhed and twisted, then literally turned itself inside out before vanishing with a loud pop.
"Stubborn bastard," Whistler muttered under his breath. He sighed deeply. "It should be gone for awhile.
Xander stepped up beside him while watching Willow resume her place beside Spike, trying to bring him out of the thrall he'd started to fall under. "So," he began, trying to understand what he'd just seen. "That... 'Buffy' we saw. Is that what Spike has been seeing since he came back? When he's been talking to himself? The First?"
Whistler caught him with piercing look. "I can't answer that. But ask yourself - how would you manipulate a recently re-souled, confused and heartsick vampire?"
Xander shivered. For the first time in a very long time, he felt something for Spike other than anger, suspicion and distrust - he felt pity.
In the kitchen, three people were gripped by guilt and despair.
"This is all our fault."
Willow and Xander stood staring at each other as Anya's words ripped away what little comfort they had gained from the night's victory.
"I don't understand," Xander said slowly, grappling with the enormity of what she had just told them. "This giant eyeball thing said that bringing Buffy back is what brought the First Evil down on us all?"
"Not in so many words." Anya leaned against the island, arms wrapped around her middle as she stared at the floor. "It said the disturbance was caused by the slayer. And that it was recent." She looked up at him, then turned her gaze to Willow. "Well, if being resurrected wasn't a big disturbance in the line of the Chosen One, I don't know what is."
Willow's eyes were filled with anguish and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. "Oh, God..." A shaky whisper escaped her. "This is all my fault. It was my idea to do the spell. It's all my fault..."
Xander stepped up in front of Willow and took her in his arms. "Hey, Will. It was all of us. You didn't force anyone. We all wanted her back." He pulled back a little and put his hand under her chin to make her look into his eyes. "And how could you know? It's not your fault."
"Yes. It is," came the voice of disagreement from behind him.
Xander's head snapped around, and he glared at Anya, Willow still encircled by his arms. "Ahn," he began warningly.
"Don't 'Ahn' me, Xander. Patting her on the back is not going to make it better. It is her fault. And mine. And yours. And Tara's. It's all our faults. But we don't have time to feel bad about it. We've got to figure out a way to fix this."
Willow pulled out of Xander's embrace, squared her shoulders and wiped her eyes. "She's right, Xander. We need to focus on beating the First Evil."
Anya shook her head. "It can't be beaten. Or destroyed. It's going to be here long after we are all dust."
"Well, what are we supposed to do then?" Xander threw his up in the air in frustration. "Sit around and wait for it to find an even bigger and badder minion to kick the crap out of Buffy? Invite the harbingers in for tea?"
Willow touched his arm, and he looked down at her. "If it's our fault that the mystical forces around the line of the Chosen have become vulnerable, then we need to figure out what we can do to stabilize them, to make them strong again."
Xander slumped forward, eyes downcast. "How, Willow? How do we do that?"
"I don't know."
Through a miasma of pain and hunger, Spike watched Buffy as she cleaned and dressed his wounds. The soft light of the bedside lamp seemed to make her face glow, and he marveled at every expression; how she scowled as she realized exactly how deep the symbols had been carved into his flesh, the way she pursed her lips when he tried not to flinch, her look of satisfaction when she was done. She finally looked into his eyes, smiling gently under his scrutiny.
His brow furrowed as he realized that she had a serious cut across her left cheek. Without even thinking, he brushed his fingers lightly across her cheek. Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't start under his touch, and made no move to pull away from him.
"Had a bit of a run in with the big nasty, did you?" His arm shook with exhaustion and he let his hand dropped away from her face.
She nodded. "Yeah. I didn't have a handy organ to drop on it, so I tried using a load of metal pipes. I think it was a little pissed off about that." She shrugged. "But he let anger get the best of him and he lost his head."
Spike started to chuckle, then winced. "I don't know which is more painful - that pun, or laughing. I think it's a tie."
She made a face at him, then smiled once more. "You need to get some rest. But first, something to eat." She twisted around and grabbed the mug of blood she'd brought up with her off the nightstand, then turned back to him. "C'mon, scootch over a bit."
"Scootch? I'll have you know that vampires don't 'scootch'. We move with dangerous, sinuous grace."
"Spike!"
"Scootching."
She helped him sit, propping him up with a few pillows, and settled in beside him with the mug, holding the straw still with a finger. As he leaned in to drink, a quirky smile played across her lips. He gave her a questioning look.
"I'm just thinking about the last time I fed you blood out of this cup."
He looked down to discover she held the old, chipped 'Kiss the Librarian' mug, and he smiled back at her.
"Things have sure changed since then, pet."
She watched as he captured the straw between his lips and drank. "They certainly have, Spike."
Giles sat at the dinning room table, the few texts and manuscripts he'd saved spread out before him. Leaning back in his chair, he pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Buffy and Willow had given him the few books and documents they still possessed, but it wasn't nearly enough. Damn the council for refusing to decentralize. Too secure in their belief that they were invulnerable to attack, pride had been their ultimate downfall - and now lifetimes worth of irreplaceable documents and reference books were gone forever.
He had a nagging feeling that he was overlooking something important, and he sincerely hoped that he would figure out what it was before it was too late to make a difference.
"You look tired," came a voice from beside him. He looked up to find Dawn standing there.
"I am."
She peered over to see what he'd been reading. "The Mythos of the Chosen? What are you looking for? Can I help?"
He almost refused her out of habit, but her eyes caught his, pleading with him to not shut her out. He nodded slowly. "Perhaps you might go on that computer of Willow's and see if you can find anything on the Internet."
Dawn sat down at the end of the table where the laptop sat open and booted it up. "What do you want me to look for?"
While Giles mulled over what he should ask her to search for, the feeling there was something he was missing right under his nose grew stronger. "Er, just start with a general search for anything about Slayers, specifically in regards to the Line of the Chosen. I'm not even quite sure what to look for."
Dawn nodded, and started her search. "I'll start with a couple of sites I have book marked. There is this one great archive that has all sorts of stuff. It's not very organized, but I found some really interesting stuff on B'lgesh demons there..."
"That's it!" Giles blurted out, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Good Lord, I must be getting daft in my old age!"
Dawn regarded him strangely. "A B'lgesh demon is it? Did I miss something?"
"Yes, actually. Just my utter idiocy." He shook his head and smiled at her. "Dawn, do you still have copies of all the books and documents that Willow and I archived the summer before Dracula came to Sunnydale?"
She thought for a second, then her face brightened into a smile. "Yeah! Willow burned everything onto CD's so we could have copies here, at the Magic Box and at Xander's. But we always ended up doing book research at the Magic Box before you left, and after that, we seemed to be able to find stuff so easily online..."
"And you forgot all about the archives."
She nodded and gave him a chagrined look. His mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Don't feel too badly. Willow and I spent over 4 months doing the archiving, and I forgot all about it till just now. Do you know where they are?"
The youngest Summers jumped up and rushed out of the room before he'd even finished speaking. He smiled at her exuberance, then started to jot down a list of things he wanted her to look for. Having her do this would serve a double purpose; it would help Dawn to feel useful and it would save him from having to work on that infernal machine.
The First wandered silent, invisible through the house, watching the frenetic activity in amusement. They scrambled and searched and trained and organized and planned... and all for naught. They had so little clue about the scope of what they were dealing with, the forces that were at work.
The slayer had defeated a Hellgod, but even the God had possessed a mere smattering of Its power. But ever, as always, the First was constrained to act within the Balance. It could only take advantage of the imbalance the slayer had caused, not tip the scales in Its own favour. If it acted rashly and did so, The Powers of Good would send an agent to aid them - to restore the balance. It could, however, apply a few well-placed nudges. Right now, Its goal was to carefully nurture the illusion they had about being on the right path. Slowly, but surely, the vulnerability of the Chosen line would increase as the dissonance in the mystic forces grew stronger. All It needed to do was wait.
Chloe's face was anxious. "You're going to leave us alone?" she asked, voice quavering just the slightest bit. Behind her, the other girls stood in a loose cluster, their individual body language portraying a range of emotions from hostility to dismay.
Buffy stood by the front door, trying very hard to be sympathetic with the potential slayers, but it was taxing her patience. She crossed her arms and drew a deep breath before replying. "I know you guys are scared. You have reason to be. But if I don't go back to work, there is no money coming in. That means I can't pay the mortgage, the electric and the water. And if you think it's been bad up till now, you've never had to deal with bill collectors." She scrunched up her nose for a second. "Actually, I think bill collectors are minions of the First. They're definitely evil enough." She stopped and looked them over, catching each of their eyes briefly before continuing.
"Besides, you aren't going to be alone. Anya and Giles are here. Xander will be back to check on you sometime during the day, Willow only has two classes today, so she'll be back around noon. And I'll be back with Dawn right after school."
Rona crossed her arms and looked at the floor while she spoke. "So, we're stuck here with your watcher, an ex demon, an injured vampire, and some guy who killed his friend?" She gave Buffy an incredulous look. "You'll pardon me for not feeling totally secure."
"Spike is not a danger to you."
"He bit me!" rang out an unwelcome voice from the front room. "He tried to ki-"
"Andrew, shut up."
Buffy rubbed her eyes, then looked back up at the six skeptical faces before her. "Yes, Spike did bite him. But he was under the control of the First at the time. It won't happen again. We figured out that he was being triggered by the First, and he's aware of it now. He can fight it."
"How do you know?" asked Vi, glancing up the stairs to where the vampire in question was sleeping. "What if he can't, and he attacks us?"
Kennedy let out a sound of disgust. "Then I'll stake him." She shrugged and planted her hands on her hips. "I can't believe what wimps you guys are." She looked over at Buffy. "You had better stay alive. I shudder to think what might happen if one of them were called."
"I plan on it," she replied grimly. "And no staking of Spike. I didn't fight the Ubervamp and get him back so that you could make him all dusty." The girls all began to protest at this, and Buffy gave them a stern look. "No staking!"
Giles cleared his throat, and the hubbub quieted. "Someone will be with him at all times. If something untoward seems to be happening, he will be subdued before he can harm anyone."
"I am not going to become some vampire's breakfast just because you-"
"Buffy." Spike's voice cut Kennedy off mid tirade, and they all turned to find him shakily making his way down the stairs.
"Spike! You should be in bed!" Buffy moved towards the stairs, intent on escorting him back to her bedroom, but he shook his head and waved her away.
Finally, he reached the bottom step, took a moment to collect himself, then looked her in the eye. "Buffy, they have the right to protect themselves. You can't tell them not to. If I attack any one of them, they need to be able to stop me by whatever means necessary." He turned his gaze to Kennedy, who met it steadily. "If that turns out to be a stake, then so be it." He looked back to the Slayer. "I'm going to do my best to make sure that doesn't happen. If I start seein' things or hearing voices, I'll tell the Watcher. They can chain me up." His voice changed, pleading with her, self-loathing evident. "I can't live with the thought of hurting anyone else, Buffy. If there's a chance I might kill one of them because they've no choice but to try and keep me alive, I'll take a walk in the sun right now."
Cold dread twisted in Buffy's stomach as she looked into his face and knew with certainty that he meant it. "But you know what's happening now. You can fight it!" she insisted.
He chuckled mirthlessly. "I still don't know exactly how that wretched ponce manages to make me go all fangy, pet. I'm not willing to risk their lives on it." He spared a glance for Giles. "And no offence, Rupert, but if I suddenly got a mind to munch on one of these ladies, there wouldn't be a hell of a lot you could do to stop me - other than a stake through the chest, and you know it."
Buffy clenched her hands so tightly she felt her fingernails cutting into her palms. A second later, she saw Spike's nostrils flare as he caught the scent. She closed her eyes, let out a sigh of defeat then looked back up at the girls standing before her. "Okay. If something happens, do what you have to do. But only what you have to do." Again, her eyes locked with Kennedy's. "Only what you have to do, and no more. Please?"
"It's a deal," agreed the brunette, a satisfied look on her face.
With a final nod, Buffy walked out of the house. As she approached the car where Xander and Dawn were waiting for her, she wondered if Spike would still be there when she got home. And realized that the thought he might not caused far more anguish than she wanted to admit.
"This is hopeless."
Giles rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache gathering there. "Anya, I know the research is frustrating, but-"
"No, not the research," she replied impatiently. "These files! Who catalogued this? M'thris demons should be filed under the Kerzanti classification. This is a mess. Whoever did this really didn't know what they were doing."
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I did this. With Willow's help."
The look she gave him spoke volumes as to her opinion about that. "This whole database needs to be reorganized, Giles. I could use the same program I had for the inventory at the Magic Box and file things properly. It would be a lot easier to find things if they were cross referenced, and had a table of contents."
"Perhaps you could worry about organizing the files after we deal with the present threat?"
She gave him a sullen look before turning her attention back to the laptop in front of her.
With a sigh, Giles turned his attention back to the printouts stacked before him. He and Anya had been searching all morning for any solid reference to the mystical power surrounding the Chosen Line, but everything was maddeningly obscure. He was beginning to despair of ever finding anything useful.
A sudden gasp from Anya pulled his gaze to her. And the short man in a loud Hawaiian shirt and a fedora who was suddenly leaning against the table near her.
"Whistler." He enunciated the name carefully, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
The newest addition to the room smiled at him and spread his arms expansively. "The one and only."
"Thank God," Giles muttered under his breath.
Whistler glanced down at Anya then back over at Giles. "How you got a Vengeance demon on your side still has the powers all abuzz, you know?" he clapped his hands and rubbed them together.
"I doubt that you've appeared here just to tell us about how we managed to startle the Powers that Be." Giles retorted. "If there is something useful that you have to share with us regarding the current crisis, it would be most welcome."
"Yeah," the slight demon agreed. "But, hey. I'm a little parched. They don't keep a lot of liquid refreshment in the upper realms, if you know what I mean." His expression turned hopeful. "Don't suppose you've got anything to drink in the house?"
"I was just considering putting on some tea, actually..."
"Giles! Who is this man, and how did he know about my past?" Anya demanded.
"He's a demon. And he works for the Powers That Be. Helping to maintain the balance."
She turned to Whistler and addressed him directly. "With the Powers? You do realize that when doing such important work, a good first impression is essential. Do you have any idea what a terribly fashion statement you are making? It took me two years to get Xander to part with those horrible shirts. You really should think about trying something in a nice solid colour."
Giles felt the tension headache blossom into a full-fledged migraine. "Or perhaps a good, stiff shot of scotch might be in order."
Whistler smiled beatifically. "Now you're speaking my language."
Vi and Molly sat in Buffy's room talking with Spike in something akin to awe. Fear and trepidation were beginning to give way to admiration, and perhaps just a bit of a crush on the part of both girls.
"So, you and the Slayer have been working together for over four years then?" asked Molly, sitting cross-legged on the bed near Spike's feet. "I'm well and truly gobsmacked."
Vi leaned forward in the bedside chair she occupied. "My Watcher told me that Vampires were totally evil and could never change." She looked troubled. "Does this mean... were they wrong? Was the Council wrong?"
"First off," Spike corrected, "I wouldn't say four years. Yeah, it was about then that we called a truce to fight Angelus, but that was in my own self-interest. And it was almost a year and half later before I started to willing help the Scoobies out. And secondly-"
Molly's curious voice cut him off. "Scoobies?"
He sighed. "S'what the Slayer's little band of friends used to call themselves. Still do, I reckon." He chuckled as he thought back to the first time he'd ever watched them come up with a plan. "I'm still not quite sure how that raggle taggle mob managed to thwart me at every turn. Had a good lot to do with sheer, blind luck I'd imagine. But, back to what I was saying."
He tapped Vi's hand lightly, then shook a finger at her. "You mind your Watcher, young lady. What he's telling you, you don't forget that. I was totally evil. I wanted nothing better than death and blood and mayhem. It took getting a Government Issue microchip in my brain to make that stop. I'd still be killing today if that hadn't happened." He gave her a wry smile. "Actually, s'lot more likely I'd be a dust pile behind the Bronze or some such right now. Buffy would have put me out of her misery long before now if I'd still been evil."
"So what really happened?" came a new voice from hallway. The three of them looked up to find Kennedy lounging in the doorjamb, obviously listening in on the conversation. "I mean, you had minions. You were a Master Vampire! If you had wanted to be evil, you still could have been." Her casual demeanor belied the steel in her voice. "What made a totally evil, though chipped, demon like you decide that you needed a soul?" She took a step into the room, nonchalantly pulling a stake from the back of her waistband as she approached the bed.
"Kennedy!" Vi let out a panicked squawk. "You promised Buffy!"
The brunett inspected the point of the stake, ignoring her nervous counterpart. Molly quickly scrambled off the bed to stand in front of her. "He hasn't done anything! You can't hurt him."
Kennedy looked the other girl up and down and then shook her head. "I'm not here to hurt him - unless, of course, he's lying. Unless this is just some big scheme on the part of the First to get an agent in this house and lull us into false sense of security so that it can kill us unsuspecting. I just want to know that I can trust him." She stepped around Molly to look down at Spike where he sat back against the headboard. "Can I, Spike? Can I trust that you won't go all evil again and try to tear our throats out? Can I trust that this whole soul thing that you seem to have the Slayer and her friends convinced of - well, except for Xander, he doesn't seem to trust you - isn't just some elaborate ruse?"
"You do realize that you're a raving paranoid," Molly commented, earning a dark look for her troubles.
Kennedy stood fast for a moment and looked for all the world as if she was ready to plunge the stake into Spike's chest. Then she sighed tiredly and and backed away, tucking the stake back into the waistband of her jeans. "Yeah. But I'd rather be paranoid then dead."
"You keep thinking that way, pet," instructed Spike. "That's the kind of thing that's going to keep you alive."
She nodded at him, still somewhat wary, then addressed Molly and Vi. "It's my turn to stand watch now. You guys can go."
Vi skirted around Kennedy and shot out of the room. Molly glanced back at Spike, then caught Kennedy's eyes. "You're not supposed to be watching him alone."
"Chole will be up in a minute."
"You're not going to do anything foolish?"
Kennedy rolled her eyes. "If he keeps his teeth to himself, he gets to stay undusty. I promise I'll only do what I absolutely have to do."
Molly gave her a curt nod and walked out of the room, leaving Kennedy and Spike to face each other. He gave her a smirk. "I bet your interpritation of what you absolutely have to do is a little bit looser than what Buffy had in mind."
As she sat in the chair Vi had just vacated, she set her stake in her lap and gave him wintry smile. "I bet you're right."
Andrew meandered aimlessly throughout the house, trying to engage the pre- slayers in conversation, but his efforts were singularly unsuccessfully. After trying to wheedle his way into helping with the research, he earned a scolding from Anya that set his face flaming. He stayed away from where she and Giles were working after that.
He'd been lying on the couch staring morosely at the floor for the better part of the morning when he noticed a book wedged under the coffee table. Curious, he pulled it Free. His eyes widened in surprise when he realized it was a book of incantations and charms. He glanced around surreptitiously, before opening it and beginning to read.
"Occludo!"
"Gah!" Andrew jumped back as the book snapped shut, almost catching his nose in the process. He looked up to find Willow standing there, hands clasped together before her. She did not look pleased.
Xander stood beside her, giving him a stony look. "Oh, just what we needed, a homicidal dork mucking around with magic behind our backs during a possible apocalypse." He stepped forward and relieved Andrew of the book "I think not."
"I just wanted to help," he whined, sulking. "I could be, you know, all noble and use my powers for good and stuff like that."
"News flash, Nemesis-boy. You don't have any powers. And even if you did, we wouldn't want them."
Andrew started to protest, and Xander held up a hand to stem the flow. "Ah- ah! Remember what Buffy said. Do you want to star in Misery, The Sunnydale Story?" The young man quailed and sat back on the couch with a whimper.
Willow 's threw Xander a questioning glance. "Misery?" she mouthed silently. Xander gave her a motion that said 'tell you later', and reached up to place the book on the top of the bookshelf. With a stern parting glance from Willow, the two of them left him in the front room and went to check on Giles and Anya's progress.
Papers and books were piled on the dinning room table, but no one was there. Willow looked questioningly at Xander.
"Maybe they're up with Spike," he guessed with a shrug. They were about to head back towards the stairs when they heard Giles's voice coming from the kitchen. "Or not." He walked back across the room to push through the adjoining door. "Hey, G-man, how goes the..." He stopped short, and Willow almost walked right into him. "Ahh... who is this?"
"Whistler," offered the man who was standing at the island constructing a large sandwich. He piled on a few more pickles, slapped a slice of bread on the top and cut the sandwich in two. Picking up a piece, he took a huge bite, a blissful expression on his features as he chewed.
Xander paled. "Giles, please tell me that's not another musical type demon!"
Giles was sitting at the island nursing a tumbler of scotch. "No. Just a 'bearer-of-unwelcome-information-in-the-form-of-cryptic-clues' type."
"Whistler," Willow spoke, frowning. "That name sounds familiar. I remember Buffy saying something about a demon named Whistler, once."
"One in the same," the demon assured her, before taking another bite.
"It turns out that there might be more going on than just the resurrection spell," Anya supplied. "He says that Buffy did something." She glared at the demon for a moment then looked back to Xander and Willow. "But he won't tell us what."
"Can't," Whistler corrected her as she wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I'm here to see that the balance is preserved. It's not my place to give you all the answers."
"And why not?" demanded Xander. "You're here telling us there's something more going on. Why can't you just help us out a little?"
Whistler shook his head ruefully. "It's against the rules, kid. I give you too much information and it tips the scales. Then the First has a right to act directly to balance it all out." He sighed. "The First is only allowed to act through agents, just like the Powers that Be. That's the way it works. When It goes to far, pushes where It's not allowed to, then the Powers give you guys a little extra help. That's why I'm here. But trust me on this one, kid. You don't want me to tell you anything more than I already have, or the First will have the right to manifest corporeally. And then we won't be having anymore little conversations."
"Oh yeah? And why is that?"
Whistler picked up the other half of his sandwich. "Because you'll be dead." With that, he took a big bite. "Mmm. I love this dimension!"
Willow took a deep breath and put on her resolve face. "Okay. Maybe we don't want you to tell us more. But could you fill us in on the part that won't get us instantly killed by the First? You might have noticed that we sort of missed the telling part, what with the whole not being here thing going on."
Whistler nodded, and swallowed his bite. "Fair enough. I can tell you that I'm here because the vampire being kidnapped and bled dry was putting the foot over the line. That's why you guys are getting the heads up."
"Bled dry?" Anya had a puzzled look on her face. "Spike still had some blood in him when Buffy rescued him. He wasn't completely desiccated."
"Actually, he was," replied the demon, wiping mayo off his cheek after wolfing down the rest of his lunch. "The Powers intervened. And then sent me out." He grabbed the bottle of scotch from where it sat in front of Giles and poured himself two fingers worth. "It knows I'm here. It's furious about it, but It has to play by the rules." He looked up at Willow. "Time is running out. Your Slayer needs to deal with this before it gets any worse."
"For God's sake, man!" Giles thundered out, frustration oozing from every pore. "She's more than willing to do whatever it takes, just as she always has. But she needs to know what to do! We're rather in the dark about that!"
Whistler shrugged. "I can't tell you anything else. She has to figure this out herself."
"Could you at least give us a hint where she should start looking?" Willow pleaded. "Just a crumb?"
"I dunno," he hedged. "I suppose... well, okay, I can tell you this. The Slayer needs to reconsider what her Spirit Guide told her."
Willow's face screwed up in disbelief. "That's it?"
A bloodcurdling scream tore through the house.
Whistler sighed. "I told you, but you wouldn't listen. You just had to try and wheedle more information out of me, and now look."
Xander and Giles made a beeline for the stairs, Willow and Anya close on their heels. They almost ran into Vi, Rona and Molly, who had come up from training in the basement to see what was the matter. Xander caught Chloe as she came flying down the stairs, weeping in terror.
"H-h-h-he vamped out and a-a-attacked me! Kennedy slammed him into the w-w- w-wall, oh my God, HELP HER!" She clung to his arms. He gently disengaged her and handed her off to Molly before racing up to the bedroom, followed by the others. They arrived to find Kennedy and Spike circling one another warily, the proto-slayer with her stake ready, the vampire in full game face.
The men eased into the room, trying to flank Spike. He feinted towards Giles, then rushed Xander, and slammed him into the wall. Kennedy charged, stake held high, but a sweep kick knocked her back across the room and into Giles, tumbling them both out the door. Xander stared wide-eyed into Spike's face and realized that death was a very real possibility. The vampire snarled and lunged for his neck. Xander squawked when he felt fangs close over his jugular - but the expected pain did not come. He took a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Spike hadn't let him go, but he hadn't bitten him either. Yet.
Xander saw Kennedy approaching again, and he shook his head ever so slightly, afraid that the girl might trigger Spike into finishing the job. He took another deep breath, and when there was still no searing pain, he decided to take a chance.
"Spike?" His voice was easily a half octave higher than normal. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hey, Spike?" Xander tried to pull back a bit and crane his head over to see Spike's face, but it was hopeless. He felt the pressure over his jugular slacken, followed by an odd sensation. After a moment, Xander realized that Spike was speaking; the sensation was the feeling of the vampire's lips moving against his skin. He strained to hear what Spike was saying.
"I won't do it, I won't, I won't, you can't make me, I won't," Spike repeated the litany over and over. Xander looked up to see Willow coming slowly towards them. She gently touched Spike's shoulder and he shuddered at the contact, slowly pulling his head away from Xander's throat. Spike's game face melted away and he looked bleakly into the other man's eyes.
"I... Xander, I-"
Willow reached out once more, this time placing her hand on Spike's arm. He shifted his gaze to her. "Just let him go, Spike."
It was then Spike realized he still had Xander up against the wall, wrists pinned in his punishing grasp. He let go with alacrity, almost stumbling backwards in his effort to release Xander quickly enough. He kept backing away, stopping only when he hit the back of the bed. He slid down to the floor, wrapped his arms around his legs and began to rock back and forth. "It's never gonna stop, never. I'll never be free."
Xander stepped gingerly past the distressed vampire to where Giles stood watching. He rubbed his wrists, then brought a hand to his neck. "I thought I was nummy treats for sure. Xander tartare." He gave Giles a puzzled look. "What do you think stopped him?"
"I haven't the faintest."
Willow had settled on floor beside Spike, speaking soothingly, comfortingly as one might to a distraught child. Kennedy grabbed her stake from where it had fallen and started across the room with a purpose in her stride when Giles reached out and grabbed her arm.
"No," he said with quiet authority.
She looked at him, disbelieving. "No? What part of this did you miss? The part where he almost killed Chloe or the part where he was trying to kill me? Or maybe the part where he just about ripped out your friend's throat?"
"He didn't."
"Yeah, but he could have!" The young woman was shaking, the aftermath of the fear and adrenaline finally catching up with her. "Maybe next time he will! I'm not willing to bet my life that he can stay in control. I'd rather take my chances with the Harbringers - at least they're predictable!"
Whistler stepped into the room. "No, honey, you wouldn't." She looked at him askance. "This only happened because things were slightly out of Balance," he assured her, with a meaningful look at Xander and Giles. "It's extremely unlikely it's going to happen again." He looked at Spike on floor, and then moved his gaze to the empty bed. "Enough. The Balance has been restored for the time being." Whistler waited a moment, then frowned and crossed his arms. "Show's over. Curtain call, time for all the actors to show themselves."
There was a flash, and just as 'Eve' had winked out of existence in the basement, 'Buffy' winked in. She was sprawled out on the bed, leaning on her elbows and whispering in Spike's ear, inches from Willow. The witch recoiled at the sudden appearance of the First in the form of her friend.
"What the fuck?" Kennedy paled and took a step backwards. She shot Giles a look. "I thought this thing could only take the form of a dead person! Does that mean..."
"No," Giles assured her. "I'll explain later."
'Buffy' slowly turned her head to fix Whistler with a malevolent glare. "You're interfering, demon. You have no right."
Whistler looked bored. "Yeah. Whatever. Time to go, Morphy."
"Or what?" 'Buffy' mocked, then turned her attention back to Spike. "C'mon, Spike. You know you want to. She'd be so tasty. And then you know that Buffy would stake you for sure."
"Okay, that's it," Whistler said in an annoyed tone. "You know you've overstepped yourself." 'Buffy' ignored him and started to hum a tune. Spike jerked, his eyes starting to glaze over.
Whistler snapped his fingers. "Get out."
The air shimmered and 'Buffy' screamed with rage. The figure on the bed writhed and twisted, then literally turned itself inside out before vanishing with a loud pop.
"Stubborn bastard," Whistler muttered under his breath. He sighed deeply. "It should be gone for awhile.
Xander stepped up beside him while watching Willow resume her place beside Spike, trying to bring him out of the thrall he'd started to fall under. "So," he began, trying to understand what he'd just seen. "That... 'Buffy' we saw. Is that what Spike has been seeing since he came back? When he's been talking to himself? The First?"
Whistler caught him with piercing look. "I can't answer that. But ask yourself - how would you manipulate a recently re-souled, confused and heartsick vampire?"
Xander shivered. For the first time in a very long time, he felt something for Spike other than anger, suspicion and distrust - he felt pity.