TITLE: Convergence Pt 4: In The Air
RATING: PG-PG 13
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these
characters, they belong to Joss, ME and FOX.
I just happen to be borrowing them for a little while.
SUMMARY: Giles and Willow discuss the Prophecy, A little S/B interaction, introduction of a new 'friend' or is it 'foe?' and the hints of something beautiful.
FEEDBACK: I am so green at this kind of stuff, so PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, give me some feedback people.
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In The Air
The deep royal blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean peeked through the thick white clouds and greeted the pair of hazel eyes that occasionally rested themselves in the open expanse of the sky outside the small window. The ocean was a vast frontier which Giles thought he had seen the last of when he left Sunnydale with Willow the previous summer. He rubbed his tired eyes in resignation knowing that he was again leaving England, possibly for good.
He loved his Slayer – for though he was no longer officially her Watcher, he still considered Buffy to be his Slayer – and would always do anything she needed him to do, but sometimes he wished he didn't have to leave England so much. California was beautiful; bright and green with all the other colors as well, but it was too sharp – things so focused and harsh; nothing was ever soft or muted. California didn't have the soft misty mornings and evenings of England, nor the subdued edges and lines of the English countryside. His beloved England was a Monet compared to California's Dali – with only the mystical impression of places visible, not the sharp, edgy dreamscape of the surreal.
Giles laughed at the description of California as surreal. Super real, hyper real. Places in California were more like "unreal." Hollywood, Disneyland, and of course Sunnydale – The Hellmouth. Giles wished for a time when it would close and when another slayer would be called and Buffy could move on, even in death. Shaking his head at the futility of that kind of wishing, he turned his eyes back to the small, but growing, pile of notes he had accumulated from the transcriptions of the new – at least to modern eyes – prophecy. His troubles with the prophecy had him wishing not for the first time for Wesley's uncanny gift with language. He sighed in frustration and wondered how Willow was doing with her pile of notes. It had to be a sight better than he.
"Willow?" he turned to the young woman seated next to him. She was working so intently on her laptop she didn't hear him. A small frown of concentration furrowed her soft auburn brows, and her lips pursed in deep concentration. He touched her arm to get her attention. Instantly the frown dissipated and her lips relaxed into not quite a smile.
"Yeah? What's up?" She said, not looking away from the screen.
"I was wondering how you are making out with this new ancient prophecy, " he said casually. "Because I for one am exceedingly weary of looking at these useless notes."
"Oh yeah." Willow turned her shiny green eyes to him and smiled. "Well…yeah. I have some stuff figured out…root words and all but it is proving pretty difficult. I'm glad I have the good ole Apple here," she shrugged. "What about you? Any luck?"
"Ah, no. Not really, not that I can say."
"Hmmm. Well, I can tell you this much. What they have translated so far is not really accurate. I mean, it is, but it isn't. There is something not quite right about the forms of the words. Don't ask me how I know this, it's another one of the freaky things I have discovered about my powers. So now, not only do I see pictures of the future, but I have an innate sense of language." Willow shudders in freakiness. "Can you say 'uber creepy'?"
"Hmm, perhaps you will play an important role in whatever is happening in Sunnydale?" At Willow's doubtful look, he muttered, "But of course I could be wrong. Anyway, what do you make of the prophecy as we have it now?"
"It's strange, Giles. Something about the gathering of powers in an ancient temple, a 'demon of blood' which I am assuming is a vampire. Then he drinks from the slayer in order to become a daywalker. Then there is mention of some sort of key. Finally, I have her death leading to the fall of boundaries between all dimensions." Willow sighed. "I thought we sealed the boundaries when she died the last time, and we killed Glory too."
"But as you said earlier, Willow, these Council translators could be wrong. We need the original scrolls in order to be sure of a more accurate interpretation. As it stands, we'll only tell Buffy what we know for sure. She has enough to worry about without adding the council's speculations to the mix."
"Yeah, true. You got a point there." Willow nodded. "I'm also kinda worried bout how they'll take me back. I have so much stuff to apologize for. I mean, I almost killed Dawn to absorb her essence, her being the Key and all, and to Buffy. But the talk with Buffy will go a lot smoother than the one with Dawn. God, that is going to be tough."
"Willow, its been nearly 4 months. You have done a lot of work and come a long way since then. I'll help you as much as I can; after all, I have so far."
"Thanks Giles. It feels good to know I won't be totally alone back in Sunnydale."
"You're welcome." He checked the time on his watch then examined the pile of notes again, thinking to himself that he just wasn't ready to delve back into them again. "Well, I think, since we won't be landing for a while, that we should get some sleep. So put those notes away and get some rest. When we land, I'll see about finding a way to get the original scrolls."
"Good idea, Giles. I'm pooped anyway." She curled even deeper into the seat, though it looked impossible and closed her tired eyes. "G'night Giles."
"Good night Willow." Giles smiled the greeting to her already sleeping form then turned his wistful but determined eyes to the window and looked again down to the deep blue depths of the Atlantic.
+++++++++++++++++++++++
The woods were dark and fragrant with the smells of the coming autumn. The bright green of spring had dulled to the deep gray of fall and the air was heavy with the perfume of the crushed fallen leaves. Buffy made her way cautiously through the low hanging branches, watchful of every movement through the undergrowth. She was on her way to the cemetery for her routine nightly patrol, but, as always, she decided to change her route. It was a more effective way to keep the vamp population down. She had just arrived at the cemetery wall when the hair on the back of her neck stood up and her stomach did it usual flip flop. A twig broke just off to her right. She whirled suddenly, ready to fight, stake raised to pierce.
"Hey! Whoa, ho there, Slayer. Careful with that thing, - you could put your eye out." Spike lounged lazily against the wall with his hands raised in mock defense.
"Spike. What are you doin there? You scared me half out of my pants!" She lowered the stake and her offensive posture.
"Well, I do still live here, ya know, " He said, with one black brow cocked high. "And are you sure it was just halfway?" that familiar suggestive look crept into his icy blue eyes.
"Yes, I'm sure, ya perv. Now, and I know this may be difficult for you, but get your dirty mind out of the gutter." She turned back toward the cemetery wall and made to go over it. "You gonna follow me, or are you just here to watch?" She asked as she hopped the wall.
'Hmm, never thought of slaying was a spectator sport. Wonder if I should become a bookie, now that I see the possibility. A bloke could make a lot of money on you and your 'calling'." Spike moved from his position against the wall and vaulted over to join her on the other side. His speculation continued. "What do you think the odds would be against you?"
She rolled her eyes in his direction and smiled. "Shut up Spike. God, you don't change much do you?" Buffy laughed in genuine amusement. "One thing I can say for you Spike, you always knew how to make me laugh. Oh, and by the way, I want to thank you for your help the other night. I don't know what happened to me. I must have been exhausted, you know?" She shook her head in confusion.
"No problem, Slayer. I'm gettin' used to savin' your ass."
"Hah! You're funny Spike, really you are." She rolled her eyes at him again. After looking around for a while, she remarked rather casually, "Do you notice how quiet it has been around here lately? You'd think it wasn't the Hellmouth anymore. Strange."
"Yeah, actually I have. Been wondering bout that myself. I mean, a bloke can't even get a decent game of poker goin anymore – even though I paid my kitty debts." He shrugged. "Oh well, count your lucky stars, I reckon. At least your life's not bein' threatened, right?"
"Hmmm, I don't like it." She frowned. "This is the Hellmouth, you know." She made another visual sweep of the cemetery. Seeing nothing sinister happening, she headed for the gate. "Oh well, my bed is calling, so I guess I'll call it a night."
"Yeah, well…me too. Lots to watch on the telly tonight." He turned toward his crypt.
She thought for a minute, as he walked away. "Spike? Why don't you come to the house? You could watch TV there and we could down some hot cocoa."
Her voice stopped him. "You got marshmallows? The little ones that melt so good?" he said without turning.
She laughed silently. "Um, remember my mother? We were never without the marshmallows when she was here. What makes you think I would be now? Yes you can have the marshmallows." She smiled in pleasure at his childlike enthusiasm for the sweet.
"Right." He started toward her. "Off we go then."
As they left the cemetery neither of them noticed the strange green-gray light that hovered silently in the leaves of the trees outside the walls of the cemetery. When the two were out of sight and turning the corner toward Buffy's house, the light shifted and shimmered, floating down to the ground, coalescing into a semi-solid shape and finally into the form of an average human being. Its black eyes scanned the surrounding area and its mouth moved into a slight smile. Yes, it thought, I shall enjoy this place much. With a blink, the black eyes changed color to a golden brown color and the creature started following Buffy and Spike on their way to her house.
Buffy and Spike walked most of the way in companionable silence – except occasionally Spike would hum a vaguely familiar tune that Buffy kept trying to decipher. It finally came to her what he was humming.
"Spike? Why in the world are you humming "My Way?"
"What?" He looked at her, surprised. "My Way? Oh well, I just like the song. It motivates me, you could say."
"Well, that's true, I guess." She changed the subject. "So tell me how you got addicted to cocoa and marshmallows. I mean, you don't, or never have struck me as a marshmallowy kind of vamp." She looked askance at him.
"I'm ashamed to admit it, I am, but I do like the marshmallowy goodness." He laughed. "Remember a few years ago, when I came back to Sunnydale looking to get Dru back? You and Nancy Boy were all googly and what not?" at her nod, he continued, "Anyway, Red sent me to your place for supplies, herbs and all that rot. Your mum, rememberin me from when I helped you with Angelus, invited me in. I, in my drunken stupor, starting mopin' and whinin' and she sort of, well, she turned into full mum mode, I guess. She made me hot cocoa, and sat there listenin as I went on and on about Dru and her chaos demon," he explained, shaking his head. "She even gave me the marshmallows. I know you don't believe this, but I liked your mum. I mean, don't get me wrong, I would have killed her, push come to shove and all, when I didn't have the chip, but I would have felt it a waste. She was a real nice lady, ya know? When I found out she had died, I brought flowers, but Xander wouldn't let me give em to ya. Not that they were for you, mind you. Since then, I drink cocoa with marshmallows to remember her kindness." He looked at Buffy, gauging her reaction to his story.
She smiled a private smile, and nodded. "Yeah, I understand, and I did get the flowers. Willow brought them in later. The card was unsigned, and Will didn't say who sent them, but they made it inside. Thanks."
They turned up the sidewalk to the house. There was a light on in the kitchen and living room, and Xander's truck was parked out front.
"Wonder what he is doin here this time of night?" Buffy thought out loud.
"Probably picked up Nibs, and stayed to watch her while you were out."
They walked inside, oblivious to the entity that followed them. The strange green-gray aura that surrounded the entity shimmered, fading to nothing. It stood, cloaked in the shadows across the street from Buffy's home. Pulling itself into the shape of a 17 year old boy, the stranger creature crossed the street and rang the doorbell. It was Spike who answered, as he was the last one in and closest to the closed door.
"Yeah, mate, what can I do for you? Wait," he said holding out his hand, "you know what time it is? What could you be wanting at 11:30? Hmmm?" he interrogated the young man, who immediately stammered his reply.
"Uh, I ahh, came to see Dawn. We're in the same classes at school, but I was out today. I just wanted to get the stuff from class." The young man stared fearfully at Spike. "Is that alright?"
"I guess so, only-" he started, but Buffy, having returned from the kitchen, interrupted him.
"Spike, let him up to see Dawn, I'm sure its alright." With Spike and Buffy looking at each other, they missed the small smile of satisfaction that crossed the young man's face. It disappeared as Buffy turned to look at him.
"What's your name? I'll let her know you're here."
"Oh, no, that's alright, I'd rather surprise her. My name is Dylan."
"Alright, Dylan. I assume she is upstairs in her room or something." Dylan took off up the stairs and Buffy again turned to Spike. "I thought I saw Xander's truck outside. I wasn't dreaming that was I?"
"Nope." Just then Xander's voice came from the top of the stairs. "I'm here – just looking after Dawn. I was up there because she needed something, then I had to… well, never mind." He looked at Buffy and Spike. "So what's up guys? Hello Spike." He greeted the camp with a degree of civility that had been lacking from his voice for a while.
Buffy answered him, "A whole lotta nothing, Xander." He and Spike followed her back into the kitchen where she started making the cocoa. "Would you like a cup, Xan?"
"Sure – you got marshmallows?" he asked at which point Buffy laughed.
"Yeah." And she tossed a bag in their general direction. Xander grabbed it out of the air.
"Hey! Ya git! No hogging the sweetness!" Spike yelled as Xander tore into the bag. At the incredulous look from Xander's eyes, Spike said, "It's the best part of cocoa, mate."
Xander nodded in agreement. "True, you gotta point there, Spike." He shared the bag of jet puffed sweetness with the vamp at the counter. Buffy smiled at their antics.
Upstairs, Dylan stalked his way silently down the hall to Dawn's room. The indiscernible aura shifted again, taking on the mystical green glow. He chanted softly to himself, calling on the energy harnessed throughout the house – this place where the Key dwelt. The shift in focus of the forces could be felt by all those in the house, even Xander felt it. It made him nauseated.
Dylan's chanting grew louder, enough so that Dawn – in the midst of homework – wondered who was making the noise. The slight dizziness she had felt at the energy shift was gone. She felt imbued with power, not any kind of functional energy – she just felt power coursing through her. She remembered a vaguely similar feeling from that night on Glory's tower when her blood had opened the portal. Stepping close to the source of the chanting, she opened the door.
Buffy, Spike, and Xander raced from the kitchen and up the stairs, calling Dawn's name, praying that she was alright. What they saw when they reached the landing stopped them in their tracks, paralyzed with fear. Spike and Buffy both let out a shout, as Xander whispered in fearful awe, "Dawnie?"
++++++++++++++++++++++++
Willow jolted awake, shouting, "Dawn!" her movement alerting Giles.
"Willow? Are you alright?" he asked, worried.
"Something's happening to Dawn. At least I think so. Maybe it was just a dream. But it felt – feels – so real," she shivered. "I wish we would hurry up and get to California. I don't like this not knowing." Her frustration was evident in her voice.
"Well, it so happens we'll be landing in just about forty minutes. You slept even through the layover in Chicago," he informed her. "Also, I found some of the original prophecy among the notes." He smiled at good fortune. "It appears that someone was actually trying to decode them on a separate page – they wrote it on a separate page, treating the script as a cryptogram."
"Well, what does it say?" She asked.
He read from the pages. "The notes say that this is the first half of the prophecy: 'The power shall meet in the body of old, a key will unlock, be absorbed in the fold. The demon of blood surrenders the night, destroying the body to walk in the light.' That is all this page has so far."
Willow sighed her frustration. "Cryptic much? Man, I really don't like ancient prophecies, Giles."
"I know, neither do I. Except when I figure them out. Anyway, let's get back to it. We have so much more to decipher here."