New Witch Old Flame

Chapter Twenty-Four

Buffy slipped in the back door of the Magic Box and looked around. Xander and his crew had worked double time and managed to turn her training room into a state of the art martial arts studio. A small office had been set up in the corner, and she walked into it and looked around. There were several locked cabinets containing her weapons, and a desk with a list of prospective students on it.
"That was quick," she said, picking up the list. "Students already. I wonder how that happened?" She scanned the list of names and smiled. It consisted entirely of kids who had survived her graduating class at Sunnydale High. She smiled, thinking of the Class Protector Award she had received at the Prom.
"I guess maybe I did get something out of high school after all," she mused.

She exited the office, and went back into the training room, and began to work out, alternating punches and kicks at the punching bag that was suspended from the ceiling. So focused was she in her training, that she didn't notice Spike, standing in a corner of the room. He stood in a corner of the room, hidden behind some equipment, and watched as Buffy put all her energies into striking the bag. He reached into the pocket of his duster and removed a package and slipped into the office and left it on the desk. Waiting until he was certain Buffy didn't see him; he slipped out the way he had come, unnoticed by both Buffy, as well as the patrons of the Magic Box.

Buffy finished her workout and grabbed a towel and mopped the sweat from her face. She grabbed a water from the little mini refrigerator and walked back to her new office.
"Hunh? What's this," she asked the empty room, picking the package up off of the desk.
"Buffy, you in here?" she heard Xander yell from the training room.
"In here Xander," she yelled, dropping the package back down on the desk. "Everything looks great, you and your guys did an awesome job, and did you see, I have students!" she said as she grabbed her list of students and headed back into the training room.
"Yeah, things really seem to be coming together for all of us, don't they?" asked Xander.
"Yeah," said Buffy slowly. "It's as if there is some good fairy looking out for us all of a sudden. "I'm actually beginning to wonder,"
"If things are too good to be true?" interrupted Xander.
"Exactly," said Buffy.

Xander walked over to the punching bag and gave it a few experimental prods.
"So what are we going to do about it?"
"I don't think there is too much we CAN do about it, other than be careful."
"Are we going to let the others in on it?" questioned Xander, giving the punching bag another poke.
"I don't know Xander. I'm not sure what to do. It's just that no matter how I look at it, I can only see one thing for us to be worried about."
"Meg," said Xander.
"Yeah, and I don't want to. I feel really ungrateful doubting her, but I do. And Dawn loves her."
"Yeah, so does Tara," said Xander. "But Willow's not too crazy about her."
"What about Anya?" queried Buffy.
"Anya has her doubts, but hasn't come out strong on the side of hate the way Wil has. What about Spike?"
"I don't know yet. He's scheduled to patrol with me tonight, so I was going to try and feel him out then."
"Do you want me to come with?" asked Xander.
"No, thanks anyway, but I don't think I'm up for another episode of the Spike/Xander show."
"Hey, how come he gets top billing anyhow?" asked Xander with a laugh.
"Shut up Xander," said Buffy. "Listen, I'll feel Spike out tonight and see what he thinks, and I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Watch out tonight," said Xander as he walked out the door. Buffy went back into her new office and grabbed a bag and began to stash weapons in it. She spied the package on her desk, picked it up and examined the outer wrappings. There were no distinguishing markings on it. She removed the wrapping and removed the books that were inside. She leafed through the pages, surprised to see that it was a journal, a very old journal. She picked up the other book and found that it was a book of poetry. She thumbed through the poems, pausing here and there to read a passage. She wrinkled her nose at some of the poor prose and tossed the book in with her weapons. She picked up the journal once more and flipped through it looking for a clue as to its owner. As she read, she became aware that the book's owner lived in England. She flipped the book back to the inside cover and tried to decipher the name and date written in the front, but it was badly blurred. She was able to make out the name William, and 18, but that was it.
"Oh, great," she said out loud. "Please don't tell me that it belongs to,"
"Me," she heard Spike say. "They belong to me."

"Spike," said Buffy. "I thought I was supposed to meet you in the cemetery."
"You were, but I wanted to make sure you found those first," he said, pointing towards the journal in her hand.
"God, please tell me this isn't another one of your sick attempts to make me believe you love me?"
"No Pet, nothing like that," said Spike, hiding the pain he felt from her comments under a veneer of bravado. "I just thought you ought to see it."
"Why, Spike? Why did you think I needed to see them? Besides, why did you hang on to a journal that you haven't used for over a hundred years? And where did you come up with the money to get your poems bound?"

"Well now, that's the rub, Pet. I didn't hang on to my journal, and I certainly didn't spend my money to put them in a book. They were given to me."
"Given?" asked Buffy. "By whom? Or do I really need to ask? It was Meg, wasn't it? That's what was in the package she gave you?"
"Yeah, it was, but the question remains, why. She had to have worked pretty hard to track them down after all these years," answered Spike.
"Xander and I were talking today. Both of us think things are just a bit too good to be true. I was going to talk to you about it tonight on patrol, but obviously, you came to that conclusion by yourself. Thanks Spike, I appreciate the heads up."
"So what's the plan, then? Do we take her out?" asked Spike.
"No, not yet. We need to find out what she wants, first. Tomorrow, You, me, Willow and Xander will get together and start trying to figure this out."
"What about the Little Bit, and the others?" asked Spike.
"No, not this time. I think it will be better with just the four of us for now. Giles, Tara and Dawn are firmly on Meg's side. Xander's not to sure about Anya, he's going to sound her out tonight."

Spike reached over and took the bag of weapons off the desk, and he and Buffy left the Magic Box and stepped out into the twilight streets of Sunnydale. The made a cursory sweep of the nearby streets and then made their way to a nearby cemetery to patrol. They barely stepped through the gates, when three vampires attacked them. They fought well together; each anticipated the moves of the other. They made short work of the three vamps and continued their patrol. Just before sunrise, Spike walked Buffy back to her house.
"You know, you really don't have to walk me home. I'm a big slayer, I can take care of myself," Buffy said.
"Yeah, whatever," said Spike.
"But thank you," said Buffy. She waited on the front steps and watched as Spike started to leave.
"Spike!" she called out softly.
"Yeah?"
"Your poems, well, I didn't hate them," said Buffy.
Spike didn't say anything, just smiled and turned and continued walking down the street