Hello, All,
Another week and I've made it.
I wish I had something witty to say, but I've just spent a lovely weekend with my father, who I haven't seen in eight months and he left this morning. So, suffice it to say I'm a wee bit sad.
I hope that you enjoy the chapter. And I hope to have my chatter back shortly.
Please let me know what you think.
Cheery Vibes Nimue "We're not nerds. We're... passionate hobbyists." - Tom Lenk
www.livejournal (dot) com/users/nimuetucker/ AlwaysEveryday (at) yahoogroups.com HowtoMakeaVampireSundae (at) yahoogroups.com
Title: Just Beyond Sense (Chapter Thirty-six - Meant to Be)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Spike/Buffy (Most major characters included)
Feedback: Yes, please NimueofAvalon71 (at) yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to someone other than me; they belong to Mutant Enemy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Fox, UPN, WB, their affiliates, lawyers and all sorts of other folks that aren't me. :::sigh::::
Summary: Spike begins to tell Joyce of his mission, with Emma's help. Angel and his team enter the Crawford Street Mansion and find out that something evil lurks beneath.
Just Beyond Sense
Spike stood stock still, staring at the golden apparition before him. Why he didn't expect something like this, he couldn't say. It was never easy. Couldn't be the soul of Riley Finn or something that he could just say 'bugger off' and choose a new one.
Had to be someone he loved.
Had to be someone who deserved to have her family back.
"Joyce?" Spike said softly, reaching out towards the woman. With a smile, she returned the gesture, wrapping her hand in his. It wasn't so much as a touch as she wasn't quite real. She wasn't quite... there. It was more of a warmth, a feeling, than contact.
"Spike," the woman responded. "How are my girls?"
It was the Vampire's turn to smile. "Beauties, as always. Dawn's getting married, less that wanker does one thing wrong in the meantime. And Buffy...."
"Another baby," Joyce answered, beaming. She looked around Spike at the elegant young woman in his wake. "That can't... how can..."
Spike craned his head and chuckled, taking his daughter's hand and pulling her to his side. "This is Emma. Though back home, she's a right bit smaller."
A shimmering golden hand pressed over a ghostly mouth as Joyce's eyes filled with tears. "I remember seeing... God, she looks just like..."
"Like Buffy," Spike completed, squeezing his daughter's hand. "Bit taller, from the looks of things."
Joyce chuckled. "She has your eyes, though."
Emma took a step forward, feeling that familial connection without ever truly knowing her grandmother, and wrapped her arms around the woman. "Thank you."
A gulp and tears welled behind not-quite-eyes. "For what, Emma?" Joyce answered, running her hands over the girl's golden hair.
"For my family. Were it not for you, my mum would not be the woman that she became. My father might not have had a chance. And my brother... he would not have even..." the girl continued, clinging to the woman, trying to take what may be her only opportunity to tell her grandmother she loved her.
"You know?" Joyce asked, pushing the girl back to look into her eyes. "How do you know about Will? About..."
"She's a native, Joyce," Spike interrupted, watching the scene with rising emotion. Knowing what was coming. "An emissary – a daughter – to the pretty bird that runs the show here."
"The Sky Queen?" Joyce asked. "You're..."
"Hers. As well as theirs," Emma answered, nodding at her father. "I am Peace."
A furrowed brow and Spike began to think of an explanation for what his daughter had said. Instead of a question, however, Joyce merely answered, "I know."
With all that lay in front of them the Vampire felt that now was not the time to press further. What one knew, what one saw, after spending time in this place... there was no way to quantify. And Emma... just being near her, one could tell she truly was Peace.
Another tight embrace and Joyce tugged Spike in with them. Her touch was a tingle, a warm glow. The feeling he had when he was alone with Buffy just holding her hand, or telling bedtime stories with Will curled up under one wing and Emma the other. The feeling of hot chocolate with little white...
'Hot chocolate with the white petals in the dark brown. Sweet like a girl's blood.' Dru's voice ripped through his addled mind. 'A golden soul with tips of roses.'
"She knew," Spike repeated under his breath.
Emma turned her head and smiled sadly. "She knew many things, father."
"Who?" Joyce asked, loosening the embrace but not letting go of either one. "What?"
With a sigh, Spike took a step back. He couldn't accept that warmth, that home, knowing what he had to do. "Drusilla," he answered quietly.
"Drusilla?" Joyce asked. "Is she... back?"
Spike shook his head, waves of grief that he hadn't had a chance to feel welling up in his chest. "She's gone, Joyce."
"Oh, Spike," the woman whispered, understanding even now the connections the held people together. Love. Grief. Forgiveness. She pulled him back against her, wrapping those warm, soothing arms around him and he almost allowed himself to grieve.
Almost.
With a gasp of effort, Spike pulled back again and looked the kindest woman he'd known since he'd looked upon his own mum. "She told me things, Joyce. Things I think you need to hear."
A flash of worry crossed the eldest Summers' face and she crossed her arms against a chill that only she felt. "What is it Spike? Is it... Is Buffy...Is it the baby?"
Spike nodded once, trying to look away. But Joyce deserved to be met eye to eye. Even if he was going to break her heart.
Tara knelt in a dark corner of the courtyard outside of the mansion, sprinkling herbs around her in a circle and chanting softly. Cordy paced behind her, watching the darkness like a lioness guarding her den.
"You done yet?" The prom queen asked, her voiced laced with annoyance and concern.
"Almost," Tara answered quietly, "I need to concentrate."
"Wesley always says that too," Cordelia huffed. "It's supposed to just go Presto-You-Have-A-Magic-Shield"
With a chuckle, Tara wrote off Cordy's aggravation as the concern she knew it was and let it go. "Just a moment more." Another series of chants and Tara tossed a handful of sage into the candle flame in front of her. "Protectus."
A white light glowed around her and Cordelia felt it surround her as well like a warm, blanket of light and heat. "Tingly."
"A little," Tara conceded, concentrating, but more relaxed now that the spell was cast. "Shouldn't get in their way."
"Let's hope to God it does", the dark-haired beauty snarked in response.
"Quite effective," Wesley commented, shuddering as the ward wrapped around him. Ahead of him in the darkened hall, Xander shook like a dog, and then settled back into stride. Gunn did a spine-chill dance and calmed immediately. And Angel just shrugged.
At least it had reached them all.
"I don't see anything here, big guy," Gunn whispered as they walked down the corridor toward the basement. There was no sign of habitation on the first level and Angel thought it the best bet to try downstairs, where there was no light, as the second avenue of search.
"It... it feels wrong," Xander considered, hefting the battle axe over his left shoulder and checking for the stake in tucked in the back of his jeans. "Like..."
"Like everything is just below the surface," Wesley commented. "Just beyond our sight."
Angel nodded. "Spike had mentioned that this Master had Powers that were... different."
"Disguising an entire household, though?" Gunn asked, sticking close to Angel's back, the four of them huddled together like a pack with Angel in the lead.
"I don't know if they could disguise everything," Wesley answered. "But it's certainly possible to place a glamour over what they do not want us to see..."
"Can we ... un-glamorize it?" Xander asked, shivering again.
"Do we want to?" Gunn added, chuckling a little.
"Point taken," Xander shot back.
"If you two can't shut up..." Angel snapped. "Wesley, do you think you can pull off the dust cover and see what's underneath?"
"Simple enough to do," Wesley answered, feeling the energy pool in his body as he began to concentrate. "Although there is a certain level of truth in what Charles was saying. Are we truly prepared for what lies beneath?"
Angel turned and the other three stopped shortly before colliding with him. "We're here to take out the Master that threatens my line, not to tiptoe around like some bad Scooby Doo movie." With an inhalation of needless breath, he faced Wesley and continued. "Do it."
The Watcher nodded and took a deep breath, pooling power until it bubbled from his body. He could feel Tara struggle to hold the ward, feel what he was doing, and let go long enough for Wesley to spout one word.
Illuminata.
Tara snapped the ward back into place as the power bubbled forth from the man and all that they saw around them reshaped. Dusty rooms became epic halls. Empty chambers became full of laughter and the sounds of Vampires supping. Dingy grays and cobweb filled blacks became crimson and marble and stone.
The three humans pressed closer together.
"How come I feel like I just walked into the lion's den?" Gunn asked, looking around, horrified.
"Uh, cause we did," Xander agreed.
"Actually, we're in no more danger than we were before we saw it. Less even. Just because we couldn't see them...." Wesley commented.
"The old dog with his head under the pillow defense," Harris commented, nodding. "Thinks just because he can't see you you can't see him even though his whole big, hairy bottom is hanging out from under the pillow."
"Crude, but precisely," Wesley answered.
"So, boss, what do we do now?" Gunn asked, feeling the darkness of the creatures beginning to close in around them.
"Uh, fight?" Angel answered as several of the doors into the corridor opened at once and a dozen yellow eyes stared at them from all angles. "Well."
Joyce sat down again, her feet dangling above the brown sugar soil as she rested on her cloud. "What is it, Spike? What's wrong?"
She patted the cloud and he settled down next to her. It felt like one of those comfortable foam beanbag chairs that the kids had. Soft and squishy and like one could sleep away their days in it.
Sleep away their souls.
"New tot," Spike began. "One that's on its way."
How did he do this without flat out breaking her? And let it be her choice?
"Dru told me before she di...Before she ... went away, that the soul that would be... her... well..."
"Is me," Joyce completed. "I know, Spike. The Sky Queen asked me if I'd go..."
Spike's eyes widened and he looked at his daughter for the courage to move on. Emma nodded, sitting down behind Spike and resting her head on his shoulder, filling him with her calm. "Remember a while back, Joyce, daft bloke named Luke and an evil bastard... Gwydion."
Joyce shook at the sound of the names. She didn't ever remember meeting them, but their names, their darkness, scarred her very soul. She nodded in reply.
"The two of them have started a little movement to get at us. You see, it's not really good business for the hell dimensions to have Emma here in existence, what with the ending all the wars and bringing peace. Sort of cuts down on the damned souls. So, they've made it a personal mission to try any way they can to get at the tot. And at Buffy and me because they know that to get near her, they'll have to take out both of us." Spike paused, taking a deep breath and watching Joyce's face. It was torn between a smile and a frown, twitching from one to the other in the blink of an eye.
"She couldn't be better protected," the woman finally commented.
Spike nodded. "Won't let a creature of heaven, hell or anywhere in between lay a hand on my girls," Spike preened, puffing out his chest. The gesture reminded her so much of the blustery Spike she'd met long ago, she had to smile.
"And I am guessing your trip up here has something to do with these two.... morons," Joyce commented. It was Spike's turn to smile. He loved how Joyce could turn a fairly mild jab into a razor sharp insult just by the glint in her eye and the tone in her voice. Buffy had the same talent, although not always the same grace.
"It does," Spike continued, the cheer disappearing from his voice. "When they took you, Joyce, when they... defiled... you...." Anger bubbled to the surface as he thought of her helplessly being guided to harm her own. "They left a mark."
Joyce nodded in response. "I feel it." Instinctively, she turned to Emma. "Will it always be there? It's like a dirty spot on my good china."
Emma smiled sadly. "No grandmother. It will fade over time. And it will have no effect on you or on your family while you are here."
It was almost as if cartoon light bulbs had shuddered to life above both sets of heads. Spike was amazed that Emma had phrased it so simply and with as little pain as possible. Joyce's heart dropped out of her chest, realizing what the child's words meant.
"While I'm here," Joyce repeated. "In other words...."
Spike shook his head. "We can't... I can't... tell you what to... God, Joyce!" He stood up, punching the air in front of him like a petulant child. "I don't want to tell you..."
"But it has to be my choice," Joyce answered, all the pieces coming together.
Spike nodded, feeling the anger mixing with the grief that was bubbling with frustration to a fine mixture of emotional breakdown.
"What if I say no?"
To be contd.
Another week and I've made it.
I wish I had something witty to say, but I've just spent a lovely weekend with my father, who I haven't seen in eight months and he left this morning. So, suffice it to say I'm a wee bit sad.
I hope that you enjoy the chapter. And I hope to have my chatter back shortly.
Please let me know what you think.
Cheery Vibes Nimue "We're not nerds. We're... passionate hobbyists." - Tom Lenk
www.livejournal (dot) com/users/nimuetucker/ AlwaysEveryday (at) yahoogroups.com HowtoMakeaVampireSundae (at) yahoogroups.com
Title: Just Beyond Sense (Chapter Thirty-six - Meant to Be)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Spike/Buffy (Most major characters included)
Feedback: Yes, please NimueofAvalon71 (at) yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to someone other than me; they belong to Mutant Enemy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Fox, UPN, WB, their affiliates, lawyers and all sorts of other folks that aren't me. :::sigh::::
Summary: Spike begins to tell Joyce of his mission, with Emma's help. Angel and his team enter the Crawford Street Mansion and find out that something evil lurks beneath.
Just Beyond Sense
Spike stood stock still, staring at the golden apparition before him. Why he didn't expect something like this, he couldn't say. It was never easy. Couldn't be the soul of Riley Finn or something that he could just say 'bugger off' and choose a new one.
Had to be someone he loved.
Had to be someone who deserved to have her family back.
"Joyce?" Spike said softly, reaching out towards the woman. With a smile, she returned the gesture, wrapping her hand in his. It wasn't so much as a touch as she wasn't quite real. She wasn't quite... there. It was more of a warmth, a feeling, than contact.
"Spike," the woman responded. "How are my girls?"
It was the Vampire's turn to smile. "Beauties, as always. Dawn's getting married, less that wanker does one thing wrong in the meantime. And Buffy...."
"Another baby," Joyce answered, beaming. She looked around Spike at the elegant young woman in his wake. "That can't... how can..."
Spike craned his head and chuckled, taking his daughter's hand and pulling her to his side. "This is Emma. Though back home, she's a right bit smaller."
A shimmering golden hand pressed over a ghostly mouth as Joyce's eyes filled with tears. "I remember seeing... God, she looks just like..."
"Like Buffy," Spike completed, squeezing his daughter's hand. "Bit taller, from the looks of things."
Joyce chuckled. "She has your eyes, though."
Emma took a step forward, feeling that familial connection without ever truly knowing her grandmother, and wrapped her arms around the woman. "Thank you."
A gulp and tears welled behind not-quite-eyes. "For what, Emma?" Joyce answered, running her hands over the girl's golden hair.
"For my family. Were it not for you, my mum would not be the woman that she became. My father might not have had a chance. And my brother... he would not have even..." the girl continued, clinging to the woman, trying to take what may be her only opportunity to tell her grandmother she loved her.
"You know?" Joyce asked, pushing the girl back to look into her eyes. "How do you know about Will? About..."
"She's a native, Joyce," Spike interrupted, watching the scene with rising emotion. Knowing what was coming. "An emissary – a daughter – to the pretty bird that runs the show here."
"The Sky Queen?" Joyce asked. "You're..."
"Hers. As well as theirs," Emma answered, nodding at her father. "I am Peace."
A furrowed brow and Spike began to think of an explanation for what his daughter had said. Instead of a question, however, Joyce merely answered, "I know."
With all that lay in front of them the Vampire felt that now was not the time to press further. What one knew, what one saw, after spending time in this place... there was no way to quantify. And Emma... just being near her, one could tell she truly was Peace.
Another tight embrace and Joyce tugged Spike in with them. Her touch was a tingle, a warm glow. The feeling he had when he was alone with Buffy just holding her hand, or telling bedtime stories with Will curled up under one wing and Emma the other. The feeling of hot chocolate with little white...
'Hot chocolate with the white petals in the dark brown. Sweet like a girl's blood.' Dru's voice ripped through his addled mind. 'A golden soul with tips of roses.'
"She knew," Spike repeated under his breath.
Emma turned her head and smiled sadly. "She knew many things, father."
"Who?" Joyce asked, loosening the embrace but not letting go of either one. "What?"
With a sigh, Spike took a step back. He couldn't accept that warmth, that home, knowing what he had to do. "Drusilla," he answered quietly.
"Drusilla?" Joyce asked. "Is she... back?"
Spike shook his head, waves of grief that he hadn't had a chance to feel welling up in his chest. "She's gone, Joyce."
"Oh, Spike," the woman whispered, understanding even now the connections the held people together. Love. Grief. Forgiveness. She pulled him back against her, wrapping those warm, soothing arms around him and he almost allowed himself to grieve.
Almost.
With a gasp of effort, Spike pulled back again and looked the kindest woman he'd known since he'd looked upon his own mum. "She told me things, Joyce. Things I think you need to hear."
A flash of worry crossed the eldest Summers' face and she crossed her arms against a chill that only she felt. "What is it Spike? Is it... Is Buffy...Is it the baby?"
Spike nodded once, trying to look away. But Joyce deserved to be met eye to eye. Even if he was going to break her heart.
Tara knelt in a dark corner of the courtyard outside of the mansion, sprinkling herbs around her in a circle and chanting softly. Cordy paced behind her, watching the darkness like a lioness guarding her den.
"You done yet?" The prom queen asked, her voiced laced with annoyance and concern.
"Almost," Tara answered quietly, "I need to concentrate."
"Wesley always says that too," Cordelia huffed. "It's supposed to just go Presto-You-Have-A-Magic-Shield"
With a chuckle, Tara wrote off Cordy's aggravation as the concern she knew it was and let it go. "Just a moment more." Another series of chants and Tara tossed a handful of sage into the candle flame in front of her. "Protectus."
A white light glowed around her and Cordelia felt it surround her as well like a warm, blanket of light and heat. "Tingly."
"A little," Tara conceded, concentrating, but more relaxed now that the spell was cast. "Shouldn't get in their way."
"Let's hope to God it does", the dark-haired beauty snarked in response.
"Quite effective," Wesley commented, shuddering as the ward wrapped around him. Ahead of him in the darkened hall, Xander shook like a dog, and then settled back into stride. Gunn did a spine-chill dance and calmed immediately. And Angel just shrugged.
At least it had reached them all.
"I don't see anything here, big guy," Gunn whispered as they walked down the corridor toward the basement. There was no sign of habitation on the first level and Angel thought it the best bet to try downstairs, where there was no light, as the second avenue of search.
"It... it feels wrong," Xander considered, hefting the battle axe over his left shoulder and checking for the stake in tucked in the back of his jeans. "Like..."
"Like everything is just below the surface," Wesley commented. "Just beyond our sight."
Angel nodded. "Spike had mentioned that this Master had Powers that were... different."
"Disguising an entire household, though?" Gunn asked, sticking close to Angel's back, the four of them huddled together like a pack with Angel in the lead.
"I don't know if they could disguise everything," Wesley answered. "But it's certainly possible to place a glamour over what they do not want us to see..."
"Can we ... un-glamorize it?" Xander asked, shivering again.
"Do we want to?" Gunn added, chuckling a little.
"Point taken," Xander shot back.
"If you two can't shut up..." Angel snapped. "Wesley, do you think you can pull off the dust cover and see what's underneath?"
"Simple enough to do," Wesley answered, feeling the energy pool in his body as he began to concentrate. "Although there is a certain level of truth in what Charles was saying. Are we truly prepared for what lies beneath?"
Angel turned and the other three stopped shortly before colliding with him. "We're here to take out the Master that threatens my line, not to tiptoe around like some bad Scooby Doo movie." With an inhalation of needless breath, he faced Wesley and continued. "Do it."
The Watcher nodded and took a deep breath, pooling power until it bubbled from his body. He could feel Tara struggle to hold the ward, feel what he was doing, and let go long enough for Wesley to spout one word.
Illuminata.
Tara snapped the ward back into place as the power bubbled forth from the man and all that they saw around them reshaped. Dusty rooms became epic halls. Empty chambers became full of laughter and the sounds of Vampires supping. Dingy grays and cobweb filled blacks became crimson and marble and stone.
The three humans pressed closer together.
"How come I feel like I just walked into the lion's den?" Gunn asked, looking around, horrified.
"Uh, cause we did," Xander agreed.
"Actually, we're in no more danger than we were before we saw it. Less even. Just because we couldn't see them...." Wesley commented.
"The old dog with his head under the pillow defense," Harris commented, nodding. "Thinks just because he can't see you you can't see him even though his whole big, hairy bottom is hanging out from under the pillow."
"Crude, but precisely," Wesley answered.
"So, boss, what do we do now?" Gunn asked, feeling the darkness of the creatures beginning to close in around them.
"Uh, fight?" Angel answered as several of the doors into the corridor opened at once and a dozen yellow eyes stared at them from all angles. "Well."
Joyce sat down again, her feet dangling above the brown sugar soil as she rested on her cloud. "What is it, Spike? What's wrong?"
She patted the cloud and he settled down next to her. It felt like one of those comfortable foam beanbag chairs that the kids had. Soft and squishy and like one could sleep away their days in it.
Sleep away their souls.
"New tot," Spike began. "One that's on its way."
How did he do this without flat out breaking her? And let it be her choice?
"Dru told me before she di...Before she ... went away, that the soul that would be... her... well..."
"Is me," Joyce completed. "I know, Spike. The Sky Queen asked me if I'd go..."
Spike's eyes widened and he looked at his daughter for the courage to move on. Emma nodded, sitting down behind Spike and resting her head on his shoulder, filling him with her calm. "Remember a while back, Joyce, daft bloke named Luke and an evil bastard... Gwydion."
Joyce shook at the sound of the names. She didn't ever remember meeting them, but their names, their darkness, scarred her very soul. She nodded in reply.
"The two of them have started a little movement to get at us. You see, it's not really good business for the hell dimensions to have Emma here in existence, what with the ending all the wars and bringing peace. Sort of cuts down on the damned souls. So, they've made it a personal mission to try any way they can to get at the tot. And at Buffy and me because they know that to get near her, they'll have to take out both of us." Spike paused, taking a deep breath and watching Joyce's face. It was torn between a smile and a frown, twitching from one to the other in the blink of an eye.
"She couldn't be better protected," the woman finally commented.
Spike nodded. "Won't let a creature of heaven, hell or anywhere in between lay a hand on my girls," Spike preened, puffing out his chest. The gesture reminded her so much of the blustery Spike she'd met long ago, she had to smile.
"And I am guessing your trip up here has something to do with these two.... morons," Joyce commented. It was Spike's turn to smile. He loved how Joyce could turn a fairly mild jab into a razor sharp insult just by the glint in her eye and the tone in her voice. Buffy had the same talent, although not always the same grace.
"It does," Spike continued, the cheer disappearing from his voice. "When they took you, Joyce, when they... defiled... you...." Anger bubbled to the surface as he thought of her helplessly being guided to harm her own. "They left a mark."
Joyce nodded in response. "I feel it." Instinctively, she turned to Emma. "Will it always be there? It's like a dirty spot on my good china."
Emma smiled sadly. "No grandmother. It will fade over time. And it will have no effect on you or on your family while you are here."
It was almost as if cartoon light bulbs had shuddered to life above both sets of heads. Spike was amazed that Emma had phrased it so simply and with as little pain as possible. Joyce's heart dropped out of her chest, realizing what the child's words meant.
"While I'm here," Joyce repeated. "In other words...."
Spike shook his head. "We can't... I can't... tell you what to... God, Joyce!" He stood up, punching the air in front of him like a petulant child. "I don't want to tell you..."
"But it has to be my choice," Joyce answered, all the pieces coming together.
Spike nodded, feeling the anger mixing with the grief that was bubbling with frustration to a fine mixture of emotional breakdown.
"What if I say no?"
To be contd.