Chapter 29 – Slayer Central - Reconvened
I'm sitting on my sofa, staring at the bracelet in my hand. It's actually quite pretty, and I vaguely remember quipping to Angel that I had nothing to go with the amulet. It feels strangely heavy in my hands, heavier than it looks, and I can almost feel my eyes getting lost in the patterns made by the intricate chain. I've never had the chance to see it so close, so I'd never noticed just how detailed the chain was. I wrench my eyes away from it, worried that it might just be hypnotic in some way, but I can't stop myself pouring the chain from one hand to the other as I contemplate what just happened.
The Lilah I know wouldn't do what she just said she did. Not that I know her, except by reputation, but it's a fairly specific reputation. Everything she said about herself meshed with what I'd heard. It's what she said she just did that's the problem.
I find I'm shivering, and glancing at my watch, I know I've been sitting here for a while. A sound from the hallway attracts my attention, and I wonder if it's Lucy. I haven't seen or heard anything of her since before Lilah came.
I look up in time to see Spike come in.
"Bloody waste of time, that was," he's muttering as he slips out of his jacket, then sits and pulls off his shoes. "Bloke we were after's dead in a pool of his own blood, and the vamp nest's deserted. That Lilah bird knows how to cover her tracks, that's for sure. Wes's gone back to his apartment to get some sleep, but I don't think he's going to get any. Wired tighter than a …"
He finally manages to kick off his second shoe, and he turns his attention to me. Immediately, his expression changes, becoming concerned.
"What's up, Love?" he asks. "You look white as a sheet."
He gets up again, and comes to sit beside me. Wordlessly, I hand him the controller. He looks at it, running the chain through his fingers.
"It looks like the amulet," he mutters. "Is it …?"
"The controller," I answer his unfinished question.
"How?"
I shake my head, not really sure of the detailed answer to that question. Instead, I tell him what I saw and experienced, trying to remember as much detail as I can.
The relief on his face is palpable as I finish the story, but it's quickly replaced by a shadow of doubt.
"Is it real?" he asks.
"I really don't know," I answer, suddenly overcome with a weariness that's hard to ignore. "It looks like it, but I don't know how to operate it, and that's the only way I know of that we could check its authenticity."
"Maybe we should destroy it," he suggests.
I consider that for a moment, but shake my head. "We're not destroying anything until we're sure that won't result in sending you back to where you came from."
"Good point," he nods, then adds, "Likely Willow or the Watcher'll know how to check if it's kosher or not."
"Or Lucy," I add.
"Yeah. When's Willow's flight due in?"
"Ten," I answer.
"You look like you could do with a rest for now."
"Yeah," I agree. "But you look like you need to get rid of some tension."
"Well," he says, running his tongue over his teeth. "I can think of something that might answer both requirements."
I thought he was more like himself before he left with Wesley, but I didn't expect it to last. Now that he thinks he might be in control again, maybe it will. I can't help myself, I just laugh. It's not a belly laugh, more the sort of giggle that comes from a combination of extreme tiredness and relief. I wonder as I start whether he's going to take it the wrong way, the way so many of the things we both said in the past came out sounding worse than we intended, but there's no way I can stop it, and after a look of surprise, he smiles back. He puts the controller in his pocket, pulls me to my feet, then lifts me into his arms.
"Think you're giggling so much you might need some help," he offers, as we move towards my room.
He pauses at the door, allowing me to open it. I'm sure he could have done it for himself, and can only think it's his way of making sure he's invited inside.
What follows is soft and gentle and warm, and when it's over, I drift off into a sleep so deep it hardly seems real. It's so deep that I'm shocked when Spike wakens me later to tell me that Wesley's on his way over and Willow has already called from her cab.
Lucy's up and about when I emerge from my room, and it looks like she managed some rest too. It's a complete contrast to the way Wes looks when he arrives. He certainly doesn't look like he slept, and I remember my own complete loss of consciousness with a stab of guilt. He has a day's worth of stubble and bags under his eyes, and if his hair's seen a comb lately, I'd be surprised. Despite his appearance, though, he seems remarkably lucid and businesslike. By mutual agreement, we hold off on explanations until Willow arrives, and when she does, Clinton is right behind her.
We start with a retelling of our adventures with the Carnolans so far, with explanations from Lucy where necessary, despite Wes' obvious impatience to get on with the rather important matter of Gina. And, in due course, we get there, and Willow says the appropriate things, and strokes Wes' arm in what she means to be a comforting way. Spike then takes up the story, describing their failed attempt at finding a route to Lilah, and when he's done, it's my turn.
Wes' expression is incredulous, but Spike holds up the controller as proof. Right about then, the whole business of only having a single speaker at any one time disintegrates, and we're left with multiple concurrent conversations. Lucy and Clinton examine the controller while Spike seems reluctant to actually let go of it. Willow starts describing to Wes how she'd go about looking for Gina, and I get up and get some paper. I sketch the symbols which I remember from Lilah's arms, and push the finished article towards Wes.
"This is how she said Gina was hidden," I tell him. "Lilah had them on her skin, but I don't know if it needs to be on the individual or whether something bigger – an apartment or office – could be hidden in the same way."
Willow's shaking her head, but Wes jumps up and goes to where he left his laptop when he arrived. He quickly boots it up and checks some files. A short while later, he closes the lid of the computer and picks up his phone.
"What're you doing?" I ask. He's looking frankly scary right now. He just shakes his head as he finishes punching a number and waits for a reply.
"Fred?"
"I need a favour. Can you still get me into the building?"
"Look, it's important. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't. It's Gina – she's missing, and I think Lilah's responsible."
"Is she? You're sure he said those words? Ok, but this is what I need. I need access to the computer system, maybe some of the texts that used to be in my office. Can you arrange that?"
"Thanks, Fred. If I could do this without involving you, I would, you know that. Fine, see you soon. I'll call again when I'm outside."
"You're not going in there?" I demand.
"It's the only way I'm going to find out how these symbols work."
"But you can't remove them if they're what's protecting her."
"Maybe, but maybe I can replace them with something else. I won't know until I can do the research."
"I'm coming with you."
"No, you're not. I'll be quicker on my own, and it'll help me not to get sidetracked. If Angel spots me, I can probably cover myself. If he sees you, we're going to get into discussing things I just don't have time for."
And he's right. If Angel sees me, the best we can hope for is another argument about why I can't possibly love Spike.
"Ok," I agree reluctantly.
"She had some more news," he adds.
"Oh?"
"Yes. She said that there's been turmoil there lately. It seems Lilah disappeared, and they've been looking for her, but then suddenly, all efforts were stopped. But there's no sign that she's reappeared, in fact, the best information Angel has managed to get is that she's completely gone, that there's nothing left."
"Sounds like Lilah might have been telling the truth," I comment, and I see hope flaring in his eyes.
"It's possible, but I'd prefer to get corroboration. His eyes narrow then, and I know he's thought of something, but instead of explaining, he turns to leave. Before he gets to the door, Willow's putting a restraining hand on his arm.
"If you're going into the lion's den, then you should at least wait until I've done some mojo to make you a bit less obvious."
Wes looks to be about to go anyway, so I grab his other arm before asking Willow to explain.
"I've got a spell in mind that should work," she offers.
"Why not just find out about the symbols and use that?" Spike asks from behind me.
"Well first, I don't know anything about them, so I don't know if they'll help anyway. And if they hide you completely, it's not going to be very helpful."
"Why?" I ask.
"Just think about it. If you and the rest of us suddenly vanish off the radar altogether, aren't the Senior Partners going to realise something's going on? Maybe start searching like it sounds they were doing for Lilah?"
"I suppose so," I admit. "So, what about this spell?"
"Well, it's something I've been working on. I started with a basic confusion spell, and worked on the entropy factor a bit. Then I added it to a very weak invisibility charm, and the result is something that'll make what we're doing look confused, as if there's no discernible pattern. They may think we're incompetent, but they won't know what we're up to."
"I'll take your word for that," I offer. Clinton, on the other hand looks totally fascinated, and I suspect Willow's going to have to give him a more detailed explanation later.
"How long will this take?" Wes is demanding.
"A few minutes," Willow says. "I brought what I'd need with me, and let me tell you, you owe me for having to pack some of those ingredients among my underwear. I can be set up soon."
She leaves to get the things, and I persuade Wes to sit down.
When she returns, she starts to arrange the contents of various packages, mixing and pouring while she explains a bit more.
"What I'm going to do is cover all of us, and this apartment. That means that what happens here will be pretty much totally protected, unless someone other than us is here. Once you're outside, it'll still have some potency, but the fact that you're mixing with others will dilute its effect, since there'll only be the normal sort of chaos in their actions, and therefore some of the patterns in yours will become apparent."
"Clinton is very interested to find out more about your spell, Miss Rosenberg," Lucy says.
Willow looks startled, used, I suppose, to my usual attitude of not wanting all the details.
Lucy goes on to explain why she's speaking for Clinton. Willow nods, and at Lucy's mention of the word 'magic' her eyes seem to widen as she realises there's a whole branch of the subject about which she knows nothing.
"Buffy," she says, pulling herself out of her thoughts. "I need something I can burn some stuff in. Something flame-proof."
I nod and go into the kitchen to pick up a grill pan. It's metal, and fairly large, and I offer it to her.
"That'll be fine," she agrees.
"Just remember, I had to pay a small fortune in a security deposit for this place. If it gets damaged …"
"No, no damage," Willow swiftly reassures, but I don't feel much better.
One by one, she places the ingredients into the dish, then she sets fire to the whole thing, chanting quietly as she does so. The flame's small at first, eventually rising to a noticeable fire, but to my relief, it remains contained within the dish. What doesn't remain contained is the smoke which rises in a cloud, bluish and distinctly putrid.
"Open the doors," she shouts, and Spike does that while I make a bolt for the windows.
"No, no windows, not yet," she stops me. "We need the smoke to infiltrate the whole apartment before we let it escape."
I give up and try to hold my breath. She notices.
"And no holding your breath either. It's got to get right inside you to have any effect. I've been working on the smell, I even added a good dose of lavender to this batch, but it looks like I need to try something else."
Gradually, the smoke dissipates, and after several moments, Willow gives the ok to open the windows. I do so, running from room to room, opening windows normally shut against the heat. When I get back, Wes is on his feet again, and ready to go.
"How long will you be?"
"Not long, if I can find what I need. I've got my cell phone with me, although I'll switch it off before I go in. I'll call you as soon as I'm clear, ok?"
I give him a hug, and he turns to leave. Without his presence, I turn my attention to the others. They're examining the controller.
"Is it Carnolan?" I ask.
"Yes," Lucy replies. "It's ancient, and something we no longer have the ability to make, although we understand part of the technique. A find like this will keep our experts busy for a long time."
"Forget it," Spike answers. "I'm not letting the bloody thing out of my sight."
"He's right," I agree. "You can't ask him to let you have it when it can be used to control him. We were going to destroy it."
Willow gasps at that, and I know she's shocked that we could even consider destroying something so powerful. Clinton's reaction, although silent, is similar, and I feel a wave of panic emanating from him, and there's a pause during which I assume he and Lucy are 'talking'.
"Clinton would not advise its destruction," she says after a moment. "We have no idea of the consequences of such an action. But, it should be possible to de-tune it."
"What do you mean?"
"The controller was tuned to the amulet, linking them. Since Spike wore the amulet, the controller is now linked to the essence of the amulet, and that is part of Spike. If we can de-tune it, we can render it powerless as far as Spike is concerned."
"And what happens if someone comes along and tunes it back up again?" Spike demands.
Clinton shakes his head, and then I hear that beautiful voice in my head. Judging by the expression on Spike's face, he can hear it too. I glance at Willow too, and her face is one of rapt attention.
"In order to tune the amulet and the controller, they had to be made together, cast from the same sheet of material, sung into life by the same voice. Tuning them again would be impossible."
"You sure?" Spike obviously isn't convinced.
"Certain," Clinton replies. "But I don't know how to convince you."
"Can you operate it?" I ask. "I mean, how do we know it's the real thing?"
"Clinton is certain," Lucy replies. "He says it resonates exactly as Spike does."
"What do you mean resonate? I can't say I want to spend my life being a bloody tuning fork."
"If we can de-tune it, you won't be linked to a controller any more, but the amulet will effectively always be a part of you. There's nothing we can do about that."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, it means that all more adept Carnolans will recognise you, if not as Carnolan, then as something akin to them. Otherwise, it should have no effect at all."
That seems to pacify Spike a bit.
"So what do you need to do to de-tune it?" he asks.
"He needs to sing for it, but he's warning me that it won't be a pleasant sound. Ideally, we should go back to the enclave to do it, or failing that, there is a safe house here in LA which has appropriate facilities."
"I'm still not letting it out of my sight," Spike insists. "I had a chip in my head for years, keeping me on a leash. Then Lilah's been pulling my strings since I got back. I'm not letting it happen again."
"If you're in the room when it happens, you'll most likely be deafened. You may be allowed to remain in an adjacent room, beyond the sound-proofing, but you cannot be shown the location of the safe house."
"Let me see the set up and I'll tell you if it's acceptable."
Lucy nods at this, and I'm relieved she's not going to be awkward just for the sake of it.
Spike takes the controller and returns it to his pocket. I glance at my watch, trying to estimate when I should start really worrying about Wes. The sound of my phone ringing startles me. I get up to answer it, conscious of the fact that all eyes are on me.
The voice is instantly recognisable.
"Buffy," Angel says.
"Angel."
"I'm glad you're back. I hear that you failed to perform Lilah's task. Do you need help? I know Lilah disappeared, and the Senior Partners seem to believe she's not coming back. I've even got a new liaison, and they wouldn't have done that if they were expecting her back."
"No, Angel, I don't need help. Everything's going according to plan."
"But …"
"Look, Angel, really, I can't think of anything … no, wait. There is something. I'd be really interested in knowing exactly what happened to Lilah. If you can find out, of course."
"I'll do my best," he promises. "But Buffy, what about Spike? I know Lilah was using the controller on him, if he's hurt anyone …"
"The only person he hurt was himself. Now, if you can help with the information on Lilah, that'd be great. And, if I can think of anything else you can do, I'll be in touch, but for now, that's it."
"I'll always be here for you, Buffy, you know that."
I know he means that, I really do, but the support he's offering isn't anything I'm likely to need.
"I know, Angel. Look, I need to go."
We say goodbye then, and my eyes stray to Spike's face to see how he's taken the conversation. His expression is strangely devoid of emotion, and I'm worried about that. I want desperately to take him off somewhere and make sure he understands, but I see him shrugging and then he smiles at me, and I know he's ok for the moment.
Willow has turned to Clinton now, and by the look on her face, he's talking to her. She starts to explain more of the theory of the spell she used, and she's more animated than I've seen in a long while. Now, if it wasn't for Kennedy, and if Willow wasn't gay now, I'd be seriously worried.
Lucy gets up and leaves them, approaching me and asking if I'd mind if she cooked something. I explain that someone offering to cook for me is definitely of the good, and I take her into the kitchen. Obviously, there's not much in the way of fresh food, but she seems to find enough in the freezer and cupboards to do something, and I leave her to it. I glance into the living room, and Willow and Clinton are still busy, but there's no sign of Spike. I go into my bedroom and he's there, lying on the unmade bed.
"Had to escape, did you?" I ask.
"Well, there's only so much of Willow's excitement a bloke can cope with."
I smile, and lean down to kiss him.
"You ok about the call from Angel?" I ask.
"Probably never be ok with the idea of you and Angel doing anything, but I can hardly blame you for answering the phone."
"Lucy's cooking," I offer. "Not sure what it'll turn out like, but it should be better than if I cooked it."
"Should probably get some food in," he suggests. "Looks like this apartment's going to be Slayer central for a while."
"Yeah," I agree. "When Wes gets here?"
"Assuming we're not too busy with whatever information he brings back."
I lie down beside him, snuggling close. I let out a sigh at just how good it feels to be here with him. Despite everything else that's going on, this bit is just perfect.