The decision was made. They would work together to bleed the First. After they figured out how to coax it into something tangible. That, Bella told them, would be the hard part.
Giles sat across from Bella at her dining room table. She had suggested that they all come to her apartment so that she could be nearer to her supplies. She had let out a giggle when she showed Giles' her altar room. He had gasped, involuntarily, as the candles flickered and beckoned him in from the doorway. The room was swimming in power and a mystical current that made the fine hairs of his neck stand on end.
Willow, Dawn and Buffy were camped out on the sofa studying the screen of the laptop. Xander and Anya were getting ready to go on a coffee and munchie run.
"All I have around here is booze, blood and chocolate," Bella told them when Dawn's stomach first rumbled. She dug into her purse and pulled out a wad of money.
"Here," she said, handing the crumpled pile of twenties to Xander. "Why don't you and Anya pick up a couple of pies at Samuel Mancino's up the road and hit the Espresso Pump for a round of up-all-night. I have the feeling we're going to be working well into morning light," she told him.
Xander looked at her with puzzlement in his eyes. One minute, she's blowing smoke and threats in his face, the next she's handing him what he assumed to be stolen money for food and drinks for the gang.
"And it's not stolen," she'd said with a smirk. Xander snapped his head up to meet her eyes. "Well, I didn't steal it... it was left to me in a trust set up by my... father."
The boy nodded in understanding.
"Alright then. Pizza and coffee all around," Anya announced.
"Tea, if you would, please," Giles said, not looking up from his studies.
Anya looked to Spike.
"Got blood and booze... and chocolate," he winked, looking over at Dawn as she sat between her sister and the witch. "What more could an undead want?"
Xander and Anya left leaving a resounding silence in their wake. Bella turned her attention back to Giles. He was lost in a thick, leather-bound book. The grey cover was soft from wear and age, some pages yellowed and curling at the edges.
"The rest is cake. I mean, really. Once it's vulnerable, it can be cut, bled and sent back to Hell," Bella told Giles as handing him another book she had found among her mother's things. She'd opened it to a drawing.
Giles studied the picture. It was an ancient vampire hanging from a wheel above what looked exactly like the Hellmouth in the Sunnydale High School basement.
Spike crowded in for a closer look. She watched him grimace and shake his head.
"Been there. Done that. Don't desire to be in that position ever again," he snorted, remembering the torture inflicted upon him by the First when he returned from Africa.
"Yeah, well, the contraption isn't meant for you. We need to find a spell to make the First embody the Turok-Han. Maui said that's our best bet. Force it into the Turok-Han and then bleed it over the Hellmouth," she explained.
"Why does this just sound too incredibly easy to me?" Buffy voiced with concern from the sofa.
"It does, doesn't it?" Bella smiled. "That's the beauty of it all. Something this huge... apocalyptic... you'd think it would be impossible to stop. Or damn near. The irony is that most of the impossibles we face in life are made of the most simplistic stuff."
"Pardon me if I sound like I'm pooh-poohing the whole simplicity of this thing," Willow began, "But if the Big Bad is that easy, why hasn't it been defeated before?"
Bella saw the fear in the witch's eyes. And it was justified. She shrugged, suddenly busying herself with the books in front of her.
"Bella," Spike pressed on. "Love... is there something you aren't telling us."
She shrugged again. Noncomittal. He wasn't liking it. He let out an exasperated sigh and then knelt in front of her, both hands clasped on her knee, his chin resting on them so he could look up at her face.
"Dish the dirt, Pet," he told her. He could see in her eyes there was something she was holding back from them.
She shuffled in her seat, but he stayed put, staring up at her with commanding blue eyes. She scowled under his scrutiny and suddenly crossed her arms across her chest in irritation and defeat. She felt them all staring at her, waiting for her response.
"Fine. Fine, fine, fine," she huffed. It was then that he saw the fear flash in her eyes. It was quick, nearly undetectable, but he saw it.
"We can do this. I know we can do this. I have no doubt. But it's not a fighting thing, it's a... well..."
"A witchy thing..." Willow whispered, finally understanding Bella's apprehension of telling them the whole story.
"Yeah," she sighed. "It's a witchy thing."
Spike was still resting his hands and chin on her lap, looking up at her with his soulful blue eyes. For a moment, she could see him as a little boy, eyes bright and wide with wonder. Not a hint of fear in them, but determination and hope.
"Well, then," he smiled at her. "Looks like we should be less worried about the First and more worried about Red getting in a paddy."
He could smell the blood as it rushed to Willow's cheeks. He went to the sofa where she was sitting with the Slayer and her sister.
"If I told you that I believe in you and that I believe you can control yourself, would it mean anything to you?" he asked the surprised witch.
She stared at him with wide, brown eyes. He was making an effort. He was being supportive. He was trying to be a... friend. The words divide and conquer flashed through her memory and she smiled at him.
"A lot," she said, placing her warm hand in his and giving it a squeeze.
"Very well, then." He was up and making his way to the kitchen as the girls stared at him, mouths agape. He rifled through Bella's cabinets and found a bottle of scotch near the back of the one nearest the stove. He took three glasses down and filled them each half-full. He handed one to the Watcher and one to Bella. She had been watching him, eyes glued to him since he broke contact with her.
He sat between them at the table and rubbed his temples thoughtfully. He could still feel her watching him. The girls had gone back to searching through the internet. He felt a sense of confidence coming from Red, though, that had been missing before.
Giles took a long, appreciative sip from his glass, never looking up from the text he was studying. He thanked Spike for the tipple with a tight, but sincere, smile. Spike noticed that the smile lingered while the Watcher continued to study the books in front of him. It made him feel good, human again, to be on the receiving end of a smile from someone as cagey as the Watcher.
"Yes, thankyou," she repeated softly. He watched as she downed about half of the glass and then placed it on the table in front of her.
Come with me for a walk, she heard him say. It was for her ears only.
She nodded and stood, finishing off the scotch first. She told Giles that she needed some fresh air and then looked at Spike.
"Come with me for a walk?" she asked him, making it look like it was her idea.
"Bloody brilliant idea, " he nodded at her.