Hello, All!
Wow. Two weeks of MtB in a row! Soon the Vacation buffs will be asking for Master Spike and I'll be behind there.
Master Spike… behind… yuim.
Back to this worldJ Here is the next installment of the sage. I do hope you enjoy it and please do let me know how you feel. Feedback is always welcome!
Again, many thanks for reading!
In Beauty,
Nimue
"For it is in giving that we receive-
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
And it's in dying that we are born to eternal life. " - Prayer of St. Francis
.livejournal (dot) com/users/nimuetucker/
Title: Let's Brick (Chapter Twenty-three - Meant to Be)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Spike/Buffy (Most major characters included)
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters (save for the ones I made up) belong to someone other than me; they belong to Mutant Enemy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Fox, WB, their affiliates, lawyers and all sorts of other folks that aren't me. :::sigh::::
Summary: Willow and Wesley plan the spell to deliver the invitation to Luke. Giles and Spike have a conversation that neither is particularly comfortable with.
Willow sat in the corner of the now empty dining room, setting candles around her in a small circle. Everyone had gone to do their own part. Cyrus and Emma were upstairs, hopefully convening with their little segment of The Powers That Be. Takina, Buffy, Dawn, Brian and Xander had gone downstairs to play with the kids. Giles had taken Spike outside for "the talk". No one was left to help her.
"Is there… could I be of assistance in any way?" A soft, low voice came from the doorway to the kitchen.
The Witch looked up and saw Wesley standing, his body framed by the glow of the kitchen lights. He looked so different. Almost as if he was a different person.
Then again, he probably was. They all were by now.
"I'm not… I haven't quite honed my toddler minding skills, and I doubt seriously that Spike would hear Giles out were I present, and my invitation to the meeting with the Queen… well, I guess it was never delivered." A small smile broke on stubble covered cheeks.
Willow returned the smile softly. "How's your magic? Oh, and normal person answer, not Watcher-speak."
Wesley took a step closer, coming into the dark dining room. "I'm not a Watcher anymore, Willow."
She paused, thought for a moment, opened her mouth to speak. She wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing for Mr. Wyndam-Price. But either way, it didn't much matter. She liked who he'd become, or rather who he was becoming. He was more… real.
A laugh. "Oh, I know. But, you know, once you learn the Watcher dialect, it's mighty hard to get rid of."
Again, Wesley smiled. "To answer your question, I'm not particularly powerful, but I've practiced my focus and concentration, and am fairly good at augmenting energies."
"And you speak Latin, which is of the good," she mused in return. "Sure, you can help. Not doing much. Just basically taking the invite," she held up a brick with a note tied around it, "and dropping it off."
A devious little grin took the place of Wesley's nervous smile. "You're going to throw a rock through the window of La Maison Rouge?"
"A magical one," Willow answered with a little head nod. "You know. For effect."
"Right," Wesley joked, standing just outside the circle. "May I?"
"Come on in and join the party," Willow returned, scooching back in the circle to make room for Wesley. "The only thing I need you to do is concentrate on the brick. I can raise it and drop it through the planes of existence, but if someone else can hold it up until it's time… you know, with the magic, not the hands."
"A simple levitation spell," Wesley answered, nodding at the basic, effective method she'd chosen.
"Pretty much," Willow answered. "I levitate it. You hold it there. I open a channel into the big old red house, you let go."
A chuckle escaped from Wesley's lips. "And I was thinking of ripping holes in dimensional walls and the like."
"Amateur," the Witch answered, playfully batting at Wesley's shoulder. "Nah, there's always an easy way. I don't usually find it either, but this time, I did."
She reached her hands forward, closing her eyes. "Ready?"
"I am," he answered, placing his hands atop hers.
"Then let's rock. Or brick."
~~~@~~~@~~~@~~~
Giles leaned up against the porch railing, watching Spike sprawled bonelessly on the chair swing. The Vampire looked so relaxed, but Giles knew that, inside, he was wound tighter than piano wire.
This would not be an easy conversation.
"So, what's so important that we need to go away from the galloping hordes?" Spike asked, the only sign of his true mindset being the continuous jiggle of one, booted foot on the otherwise calm body.
Giles took a breath. "It's not that it's more important… just a bit… sensitive." The Watcher dug in his coat pocket, producing a pack of cigarettes and tapping one out of the pack.
Spike sat up, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Must be for you to break out the cancer sticks and risk the wrath of Vengeance."
A chuckle before Giles poked the smoke into the corner of his mouth, flicking open a worn, metal Zippo and lighting the cigarette with practiced smoothness. He offered the pack to Spike who shook his head once.
Rather than put the pack away, Giles set it on the porch rail next to him.
"Spike, Wesley, Willow and I talked at length about how to combat this latest threat…" He took a long draw from the cigarette, blowing smoke out in a lazy stream. "We need to cover all fronts."
Spike nodded. "And I'd agree." He watched Giles for a moment, trying to read the Watcher and not getting very far past 'this isn't good'. "What is it that you want to say, Rupert? We can pussy –foot around all night, but it won't solve anything. Should know by now I'm a man of action…"
"Spike," Giles interrupted. "It's a bit more controversial than that."
The Vampire raised an eyebrow, his attention garnered. "Listening."
Another long drag and Giles pushed himself up to sit on the porch railing. "We have reason to believe that Luke is behind this…"
"Could have told you that git'd be involved," Spike contributed, shutting up quickly as Giles shot him an authoritative look.
"Yes, but if you don't let me finish, we continue to pussy-foot," the Watcher snapped, his voice full of annoyance.
Spike nodded, submitting this once. It was his baby's future on the line. The least he could do was swallow his remarks.
"As I was saying," Giles continued. "We also think he has an accomplice. From the scrolls and from indications in other texts that we have uncovered since."
Spike fidgeted, his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap. "Any idea who?"
Giles nodded, taking another drag. "We believe it to be Gwydion."
That, Spike hadn't expected. I mean, he didn't really think that the monster had disappeared when he had been forced to kill what was left of his father. Or when he and Buffy had gone against a possessed version of her ex. But Gwydion was in a different league than Luke.
Luke was the gnat of the Hell Gods. The kind that'd annoy you into oblivion, but really didn't carry enough bite on his own to pull off anything too dimension shattering – like removing the Peacemaker from the hands of the One.
Gwydion, on the other hand, was smart, very evil, and not about to take no for an answer. That much Spike had learned in the battle against his father. That concept was enough to scare him. More than he had already been afraid.
Spike leaned forward, gesturing at the pack of cigarettes that Giles had left on the railing. Giles nodded, tossing it to him, followed quickly by the lighter. "Right then, what do you need me to do?" The lighter flicked. The cigarette glowed. Spike leaned back in the swing, tossing the pack back to Giles.
"We need intelligence on him. His weaknesses," Giles answered, trying to keep his tone even. "He hadn't really made his presence known, or at least identifiable, prior to the advent of the One, so there is very little known about his strengths and weaknesses."
"Ruthless bastard is a start," Spike countered, taking a long pull and blowing the smoke out in a strong, steady stream.
Giles nodded. "True, but we need specifics."
"How?" Spike asked. "If you're right, then he's holed up in the big red house with his new mate Luke and I've got no free pass."
The Watcher closed his eyes and steeled himself. This was the part that Spike wasn't going to like and there was no point in dragging it out any longer.
"Spike, he had… associates… while he was in this dimension. Close ones." He stared at Spike, hoping he wouldn't have to say it. "Mutual ones."
A long, silent moment. Spike's mind reeling. A familiar voice purring "daddy" at the monster who'd taken his father. That same voice finding him in a dark crypt, dying.
"Dru." It was a quiet admission of defeat.
Giles nodded. "Drusilla knows him, Spike. She knows what his strengths are. His weaknesses. She knows. "
Spike closed his eyes, leaning back against the wood of the swing. "And you want me to find her. Get it out of her. That it?"
Again, the Watcher nodded. "We need to know how to neutralize him if we cannot conquer."
"Don't know if I can do it, Rupert. Don't know if she'll even talk to me. Don't know if I can understand *her*. Don't … don't want to leave Buffy…" A pause while he thought on that one. "You know Buffy's *not* going to be all puppies and Christmas 'bout this idea, don't you?"
"I'll explain it to her, Spike. She trusts you. And she'd do whatever it takes to save her child, never mind existence as we know it," Giles answered, stubbing out the cigarette and sliding the filter into his pocket.
Spike nodded. "No one else? Like, can't we dig up the Marquis de Sade or something? That'd probably be easier."
The Watcher chuckled. "This is the best chance we have to get any inside information on Gwydion. "
A deep sigh from the Vampire. "Don't even know where to find her, mate."
Before Giles answered, he proffered another cigarette from the pack, lighting it and tossing the pack to Spike. "I've located her."
Spike's eyes went wide. He'd spent years looking for Dru in the past. But the Watcher could find her in a weekend? "How? Where?"
"Funny, really," Giles answered, another plume of smoke escaping his lips. "I put in a call to Angel…"
"ANGEL?" Spike nearly screamed, jumping from the seat and lunging towards the Watcher. "You call the bloody poof and let him know how inadequately I can handle my own affairs and… I should bloody well tear your head off for that…"
"Spike, please," Giles cautioned, pushing the advance away with one hand. "Theatrics won't help and I've no doubt that you've no intention of ripping my head off my neck. So, please, let's continue this civilly."
A small growl escaped Spike's lips as he retreated, still standing, taking a nervous drag from his smoke. "Fine then. What did Peaches have to say?"
"To correct you, if I might, I did *not* tell him of any inadequacy, as I do not find one in the way you protect your own." It was a simple statement, but Giles meant it. Spike stopped, looked at the man, nodded his respect.
"What I *did* tell him was that we had a situation in Sunnydale relating to Buffy and her family and that we required his assistance. He offered to drive up, but I advised him that was unnecessary. That what we need from him is information. I asked him about Drusilla and, oddly enough, she'd been in LA recently. He inquired around and found that she was in hiding in a mission not far from San Diego, alone."
"Alone?" Spike asked. "Not like Dru to be alone."
Giles nodded. "Apparently, her association with Gwydion was not the first, nor the last, relationship of hers that went horribly wrong."
A pang of guilt went through Spike. Even if she was completely bonkers, and it was she who had taken his life and betrayed him repeatedly, he had always felt a certain responsibility for protecting her. Irrational, maybe, but real.
"She all right then?" Spike asked, extinguishing one cigarette and lighting another.
Giles nodded. "Once Angel found her, he hired someone to keep an eye on her, both for our purposes and for…"
"Bloody well should. That bastard's fault that she's…" Spike blurted, not feeling love for her, but a sort of … sorrow.
"Well, he said that he'd make sure she stayed there, and was taken care of. But I think it's safe to say that you have the best chance of extracting any information she may have, and possibly the only chance of deciphering it," Giles continued, chuckling slightly.
Spike shook his head. "Dunno. Bit rusty in the area of sack-of-hammers speak."
"The best chance," Giles repeated. "And when Angel offered to see what he and the rest of his crew could dig up, I did accept, because like it or not, any information, from any source, that will help us with … this… is welcome. "
"It is," Spike said, taking another drag. "But Buffy's not going to like this idea. "
"If you like, I'll talk to her." The look on the Watcher's face showed clearly that he was just as afraid of the task.
"No. I'll tell her." Another puff. "When am I supposed to leave?"
"After the meeting," the Watcher answered, stubbing out his second cigarette and stowing the pack back inside of his jacket. "So, then, am I to assume you will do it?"
Spike closed his eyes. Took a long draw. Let his head fall back. Was there even a choice? "Yeah. I'll go."
To be contd.