A/N: Fair warning: This is not the end of the Prophecy. I wrote too much, so I've had to cut the chapter up into 2 chapters. Now, you won't be getting the next one until next week. I know you guys have been so patient with me, and I appreciate that. I really do. I promise you, next Monday the final chapter will be posted. I'm still iffy on an epilogue, but odds are in its favor. Thanks again for all the support. See ya soon! Witchie
Wind whistled through the stillness of the suburban street. Like tiny fairies, it played with Buffy's hair, pulling the strands into her eyes. She reached up, distractedly, to push the pesky strands behind her ear. The act drew her attention away from the departing car. Getting Dawn to leave had been the biggest chore of the day, and the funniest. She was as stubborn as Buffy and as pig-headed and smart-alecky as Spike. Buffy figured this might be a preview to Bitty. If that was the case, Buffy's teenage years were going to pale in comparison to her daughter's. Karma, indeed.
Buffy scanned the quiet street as she curled into the wicker chair. She could feel eyes on her. No warm fuzzies, so she knew it wasn't Spike. Well, let them watch. Let them report back to Travers that all was well. Let him lower his guard so we can get in and get Bitty. Buffy couldn't help but smile.
What are you smiling at bitch? Shackleford thought to himself. The uneasiness that had plagued him the previous night returned in full force. Did she know he was watching her? It wasn't a big reach to suspect that Slayer and her group knew. After all, she was a natural born hunter. Like her husband, she hunted her prey. If that was the case, and his cover was blown, Shackleford needed help. It really chafed his ass, but there was nothing to be done about it. He couldn't be in two places at once. Travers would not be pleased if Dawn Summers escaped his snare. Besides, Shackleford really didn't want to delve into the bowels of Travers' psyche and imagine what he'd do to him if he failed. It would probably be as depraved as his own mind.
The cell phone found its way easily to Shackleford's hand. He waited patiently for the international call to connect. All the while, his gaze never left the small form of Buffy Summers.
"I'm on vacation." Came the curt reply from the other end.
"Cancel it. I need you back in Sunnydale. You'll have to take a commercial flight. Mr. Travers' plane is unavailable at the moment." Shackleford narrowed as a car pulled up to the curb outside the house. Buffy stood, waving at the occupants.
Shackleford recognized the driver immediately. It was the store owner. The gal didn't look too bad for nearly being blown to bits. Her friend was another matter all together. She definitely looked good. Too good for Shackleford's liking.
"Focus, man. Focus." He muttered, ignoring Dewey entirely.
"I am focused. I'm focused on my tan." Dewey answered, ready to fling the phone into the Seine.
"Are you still talking?" Shackleford queried. "You were contracted to do a job. It isn't completed. Would you like for me to come there and terminate it?"
Dewey blanched. He knew money would not be the only thing he'd lose if told Shackleford to fuck off.
"Mere." The affectionate name for his mother slipped unbidden past Dewey's lips. "My flight arrives in LA at midnight." Dewey remarked, running his hand over his face.
"See you then." Shackleford grinned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Why did I have to come dressed like this?" Xander groused as he and Anya parked the car in front of Buffy's.
"Because you're on the outs with Buffy and Spike and wouldn't be allowed in their house if they were vengeful, spiteful people." Anya told him matter-of-factly.
"Don't you think I know that, Anya."
Anya looked at him queerly, then looked past him to Buffy. "Buck up, Xander. It's for a good cause. Besides, Hallie has a great pair of legs, and her breasts are perky."
Xander smiled briefly, before realizing he was essentially checking his own body out. Well, the one he'd borrowed for another five minutes, and boy, he couldn't wait for Willow to remove the glamour spell.
Xander took a deep breath, resisting the urge to readjust. Girls don't adjust. At least not down there anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy'd warned him, before she walked Dawn outside, what to expect, but still that hadn't been enough. Spike had never been a fan of magic. But after today, count him as magic's number one fan. Somebody up there, really liked him.
"One word, Spike, and I will deck you." Xander grumbled.
"And I've got no problems with hitting a lady." Spike replied with a grin. His fondest wish had come true. Xander was someone's bitch for the week. It was no less than what he deserved, but still Spike was appreciative. And seeing Buffy's hazel eyes glittering with amusement, Spike knew she recognized the karmic value of the situation too.
"Now that the gang's all here, minus one wicca. Let's get started." Spike announced, slipping his arm around Buffy's waist. They shared a moment and a grin before turning serious.
"Hi, Spike. How are you?" Anya greeted. She fairly bounced into the room, the energy coming off her palpable.
Who spiked Anya's Cheerios this morning? Buffy wondered. She'd only seen the ex-demon, full-time capitalist like this after… Oh! Buffy blushed. She took in the furtive glances passing between Giles and Anya, and got the picture. Eww…Giles sex.
"Somebody got lucky." Spike mumbled, confirming Buffy's own musings.
"Willow has written out each of our parts in the ritual."
Giles explained, handing Buffy and Spike a sheet of paper with bullet points
and arrows. Spike's brow quirked in amusement.
"What? No diagrams." He joked, then instantly felt remorseful as he noticed the fearful expression in Willow's eyes. "I was just kidding, Red. These are perfect."
"Oh, it's not the diagrams. Just tell that to the mariachi band in my tummy. I could relax if they weren't playing 24/7."
Xander draped his arm over Willow's shoulder. "Can I request a song? The only one I know is "La Cucaracha".
Xander's joke seemed to be just the thing to relax Willow. Her body sagged into his Hallie body.
"I've got to change you back." She told him, grimacing as she stepped back. "It's kinda creepy hearing your voice, but feeling Hallie's…umm…you know whats."
Spike turned his head so he wouldn't laugh. Buffy looked up at him and winked. "Weird and Sunnydale. Two very mixy things."
"Most definitely, Luv. Just look at us." He said with a smile.
Buffy's grin fell, and Spike was briefly concerned, but Buffy reached up and caressed his cheek with her fingers. "No, Spike. We were meant to be."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Executive meeting. Wednesday at 10 am.
Olivia reread the sentence again. The six words confirming their theory of Travers' next move.
"That didn't take long." She said, folding the missive and placing it back in its envelope.
"No, it didn't. I've already spoken to Yvonne and Edwin. They received a summons as well."
Olivia pursed her lips as she thought about their actions of the last few days. They miscalculated before, and Reginald had lost his life. They could not afford another blunder like that. The consequences this time could have a rather devastating effect on the world.
"Are you concerned we're not prepared to handle Quentin?" Edgar asked, pinning Olivia to her chair with his hard gaze.
"If we fail, there's no one left to oppose him. Could you sleep at night with the weight of that failure over your head?" Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to calm her shaky nerves.
"I don't sleep anymore. Not since I learned of Reginald's murder. I will not rest until Travers is in his grave." Edgar's calm, even voice replied. "To eliminate the possibility of Travers escaping our net, I would like to speak to Rupert Giles. I am certain he and Ms. Summers would like to be on hand to ensure our success."
"I doubt Rupert would answer my call." Olivia replied sadly. "He's not very accommodating to those he feels have betrayed him."
Edgar nodded. "He will accept your call because he knows you are working to bring Travers down. Not only that, but we are here and the child is here. He'll accept your call. If it were my child," And he paused as the grief pulled him under again. "If it were Reginald, I would work with my worst enemy. When it's your child's life at stake, nothing else matters."
Edgar pushed the phone towards Olivia. "Go ahead. Give Mr. Giles a call."
It was all about the mission. Olivia knew that and still the decision to exclude Giles and Buffy weighed heavily on her conscience.
"Hello, Rupert."
"Hello, Olivia. What can I do for you?"
Olivia grimaced, but didn't allow the coldness in Giles' voice to deter her. "I thought you would like to know what's happened."
"Travers has called an Executive meeting." Giles replied dryly.
Olivia's jaw dropped before she could stop it. It never ceased to amaze her, the connections Giles had, even across the pond.
"We believe he will bring the baby to London. To show her off so to speak."
"You believe, but you don't know for certain?"
"My contacts have been unable to discover anything about her. Travers has covered his tracks well. There are no financial records to indicate he's even prepared so much as a room for her arrival." Olivia replied.
Giles was tempted. He could lie to Olivia, but he felt the call was an olive branch. One he couldn't refuse to acknowledge.
"She's in Scotland. You'll understand if I don't reveal her exact location to you."
Olivia's eyes narrowed into slits. "I know you don't believe me, but I would never harm that child."
Giles believed her. He'd known her too long to doubt the emotion he heard in her voice. "You might not, but the Council would. What's your plan? I assume your organization has something planned to stop Travers' self-coronation."
"We do. We're going to bring charges against him, for Reginald's murder, for the attempted murder of Buffy and Anya, for his secret operations that have put the Council on the verge of war with the First Evil."
Giles laughed. Their plan was preposterous and doomed to failure. There was no humor to be found in the potential slaughter of dozens of Watchers, but the simplicity of their plan was laughable. "And you believe Quentin is going to step down and hand over the reigns of the Council to you? Quentin is a bastard. He'll dance on your graves. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"We realize there is a certain lack of action to the plan, but it is all we've got. Once he's confronted, he will be forcibly removed and imprisoned until a tribunal can be convened." Olivia retorted angrily.
"You are fools." Giles responded. He felt the need to reach through the phone and shake Olivia till her eyes crossed.
"Maybe we are, but we have to do something. Too many people have been hurt by Travers' actions. Too many lives have been sacrificed in his drive to be omnipotent."
"Reginald." Giles murmured.
"Yes… Reginald."
Anya tugged at Giles' arm. "Are you going to tell her?" She whispered.
Giles' gaze fell on Buffy, and he felt the familiar catch in his heart whenever he saw her. The image of her broken body was forever burned into his memory. Her resurrection had been a godsend. Yes, they deserved to know.
"Reginald survived Travers' attack. He's alive."
"What did you say?" Olivia's widened. She knew she'd misunderstood Giles. What he said wasn't possible. Hadn't Travers assured her of Reginald's death in gory detail. ?
"He's alive, Olivia."
"Reginald's alive." Olivia repeated, whether it was an utterance of disbelief or an announcement to Edgar Smythe-Bailey, Giles did not know.
"Olivia, Olivia…" Giles shouted. "Reginald is at Sunnydale Memorial. If you want to speak to him, you'll have to do it through his nurses. He's in the intensive care."
Olivia wiped at her runny nose. "Thank you, Rupert. I'll call you if we find out anymore information about the baby."
"That would be helpful, but don't worry about Bitty. Her family will get her back, not the Council."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Xander tried to block out the sound of Buffy's boots as they clicked along the concrete floor. He wanted to tell her she was making him nervous with her pacing, but he could see the concern in her eyes.
He was a little scared himself, but he trusted Willow with his life. Xander wasn't sure what he'd done in this life to deserve Willow's love, but he'd never take it for granted again.
"Xander, you'll need to stay within the parameters of the inner circle." Giles advised him. "If you step outside of it… Well, don't step outside of the circle."
Xander stepped within in the circle, careful not to disturb the powder ringing it. There was barely enough room for him, but he managed to get his feet inside. Anya adjusted the straps on the backpack, making sure it stayed within the boundaries of the circle.
"No matter what happens, don't move." She warned him.
Xander glanced down at her and smiled. "I won't."
Spike could sense the fear that Xander valiantly attempted to hide from the girls. "Good luck." He told him.
Xander's eyes showed his surprise and gratitude, something Xander was sure he'd never given to Spike before. "Thanks."
"You might want to take a step back." Willow warned. She grasped Tara's hand and they began to chant. The powder flashed, igniting like gunpowder. A blue light enveloped Xander, and then there was nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!" Xander screamed. When he realized the burning ache that had raced through his body had stopped, he cautiously opened one eye, and laughed. The cow staring back at him, continued to chew on his blade of grass as if it were an everyday occurrence to see a man pop out of nowhere screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" He shouted, dropping to his knees and kissing the ground. It was only when he got a whiff of the steaming pile a few inches from his nose that he stood up and gagged.
Shaking it off, Xander pulled the backpack off and rummaged through it till he found the map. Willow had Googled and found a map of the island. He checked his watch and set the timer. They were only giving him two hours to find Bitty and store the gear before they zapped him back.
"Hold on, Bitty. Uncle Xan's coming."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reginald studied the line of stitches that encircled his neck like a garish necklace. Though ugly and unsightly, it was a symbol of pride to him. He had survived. Good had triumphed over evil. At least, it had for the moment.
"The doctor would be very upset if they saw you touching your neck." Arik admonished him as he laid the wound care kit on the side table.
Yes, I'm sure he would. Reginald responded. Sarcasm was hard to project on an eraser board.
Arik snickered. "Don't worry. You will be out of here soon enough. A few more days, and you can go home."
Reginald's eyes frowned. Home. England. His father. What would his father think of him? He'd always been so disappointed in his choices. Even though, his choices were Edgar's choices. He held his father in high regard. Thanks to Travers, he'd never be able to tell him that.
Arik gestured for him to lean back, and he compiled, too depressed by his recent train of thought to do much else. Arik worked quickly to cleanse the wound and apply an ointment to reduce infection. He tapped Reginald on the shoulder.
"All done. Do you need anything?"
Reginald shook his head no.
The phone rang, but Arik was already out of the room. Reginald stared at it. He couldn't talk to whoever was on the other end, and there was also the fear he had been discovered. Curiosity won out and he picked up the receiver.
"Hello. Hello. Reginald?" Reginald had never heard his father sound so timid, so unsure of himself. His mouth crinkled as he fought back tears. He took a deep breath and tried to answer him, but the only sound emitted from his throat was a tiny squeak. It was all Edgar needed to hear.
"Reginald…I love you son."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Xander tucked the key to his newly rented room in his inside pocket. It hadn't taken nearly as long as he'd estimated to get to the town. He had to thank Ethan Rayne for his commando skills. It was time like these they came in real handy.
He turned the wooden placard hanging from the door over to read, 'Do not disturb'. The innkeeper was under the impression Xander and his 'girlfriend' were staying in the room, and the sign would keep the man from becoming suspicious of Buffy and Spike.
Xander checked his watch. He had less than a hour to find the house and get back to the pasture before Willow's spell zapped him back to Sunnydale.
"Better get going." He mumbled to himself. He took the stairs two at a time, nearly washing out on the last one.
The interior of the inn was almost cave-like in comparison to the brightness of the outside world, which is why Xander had to shield his eyes as he came out the door. Good thing he had. If not, then Travers would have recognized him as he sped by in his car.
Xander didn't panic, though the need to run screaming down the center of town like a little girl was rallying hard for attention. If something had happened back in Sunnydale, Willow would have brought him back already. So why was Travers here? And would he be staying? Only way to get the answers to those questions was to follow the car, and see what he could discover. The narrow streets of Petershead did not allow the sedan, in which Travers was riding, to get very far too fast. Xander was able to tail him without worry, without being seen.
Travers' car stopped at the gate, and the man himself stepped out. Xander's eyes narrowed, trying to determine what exactly Travers was doing. He didn't have to wait long as Travers raised his hand and waved it in front of the gate. If Xander didn't have any experience in the supernatural, he wouldn't have noticed it. There was not only a wall of energy around the house, but the gate was also enchanted.
"Damn." He muttered. They were going to have to pray Willow's theory was correct, and Bitty had the power to open gates through magical cloaks. If not, they were going to have to get the talisman from Travers. For some reason, Xander didn't think Travers would survive that fight. More's the pity.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Joanna stiffened as she heard the deep-throated voice of Quentin Travers. She looked with mounting concern at the dozing baby. There'd been no sign of the mysterious woman since her appearance the day before. Joanna desperately wanted to speak to her, ask her if she knew when "Catherine's" parents would be coming for her. The call had come thirty minutes earlier informing her of the surprise visit. Hunger had driven "Catherine" to take the bottle, and she was gratefully asleep. If this inspection, and that's what it was, could be conducted quickly, then Mr. Travers would never know what his presence did to the young child.
Joanna opened the door, preventing Quentin from barging in and waking the baby.
"Joanna, were you going somewhere?" Travers questioned her.
"No. I heard you in the hallway, sir. The baby just fell asleep, and I didn't want to awaken her." She told him, no waver in her voice. He had left "Catherine" in her care, and she would decide who saw her when.
Quentin smirked, recognizing the no-nonsense tone in the nanny's voice. "That's a shame. I need to draw some blood from her, and I doubt she'll sleep through a needle puncture."
Joanna couldn't hide her horror. "What? Why?"
"Your job is not to know why. It is to do. And do be quick about it. I must return to England soon." Quentin crossed the threshold into the room. His presence woke Bitty from a sound sleep. She shrieked in terror, and Joanna rushed to calm her.
"She's just a child. Why would you want to hurt her?" Joanna asked incredulously.
"Silly woman. You have no idea what she is, what she can sustain. No idea. I'll give you a choice." He said jovially. "You can extract her blood, and know she's safe. Or you can watch Mr. Timmons do it. I don't think he'll be as concerned for her as you will be."
Joanna had no choice at all, and she knew it. There'd never been a doubt in Travers mind that she would. Timmons was a lackey, a brute at best, and would have harmed the baby, and that was something neither wanted.
Joanna sighed heavily and walked over to the crib, where "Catherine" was whimpering. "I'm sorry, sweetling."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hallie stood off to the side, unseen by mortal eyes. As the needled pierced the baby's skin, she was there, caressing Bitty's downy curls. "Don't worry, Bitty. Your Mommy and Daddy will be here tomorrow. It'll all be over soon."
While her smile was comforting, inside, Hallie was fuming. Travers deserved to die for the pain he'd caused Bitty. Her hands were tied as far as the punishment. Bitty had to wish it, and the sweet child knew nothing of revenge.
"See, that wasn't too difficult." Quentin remarked, plucking the vile of blood from Joanna's trembling hands. "Let me have that, m'dear. We wouldn't want you to drop it."
Timmons appeared at Travers' side. In his hands, he had a container to transport the blood. Joanna could see the cold wafting out of it.
Travers sighed, a grin on his face. "Good day, Joanna." He paused and ran a withered finger across Bitty's cheek. "Goodbye, Catherine."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a race to see who would teleport home first, with Hallie beating Xander by a half-second. But Xander beat Hallie to the punch because of the justice demon's habit of preening in front of one blonde vampire.
"Travers is in Scotland. He was at the house." Xander rushed out.
"What? How? Did he see you?" The questions rang out, and Xander's head jerked from side to side to catch them.
"Guys, he can't answer you if you don't let him speak." Tara reminded them.
"Thanks, Tara." Xander turned to Buffy and Spike. "I couldn't see inside the house, but Travers had to use a thingiemajig to get inside the gates."
"Could it have been an amulet?" Giles questioned.
"That's what I said. But I couldn't really see it. I was hiding across the street." Xander shrugged.
Buffy smiled tightly, handing the glass she'd been holding to Spike. "You did what you could. Thank you."
"There's more." Hallie piped in. She crossed the room to stand in front of Spike and Buffy. "Travers took blood from the baby."
"Spike!" Willow cried out.
Buffy's eyes widened at the sight of her husband, his hand dripping blood onto the carpet, his eyes yellowed, and his face shifted into game face.
"Jesus, Spike." Buffy gasped, cupping his hands in hers. "Remember the house rule? We only break things that are not ours."
"Bastard touched my girl, Buffy." He whimpered.
"I know. I wish that would have been his head, too." Buffy touched her head to Spike's, ignoring everyone else.
Hallie coughed, delicately to get their attention. "You should know he's gone. He left for London with the blood. I overheard him speaking…"
"Eavesdropped." Anya corrected.
Hallie ignored the sarcasm and continued with her report. "He's planning on taking Dawn's blood too.
"How do you know that?" Anya countered.
"I heard him talking to his…henchman. He was gloating about having the Key and the Prophecy child's blood."
"He wants to show the Council what a mixture of their blood will do. He's insane." Giles concluded. "There's nothing in Jayme's journal to suggest their blood can be used for anything."
Buffy and Spike shared a look, the sense of déjà vu making them both queasy. "This news changes nothing, except making me want to hurt Quentin, really, really bad." Buffy said. "Dawn and Bitty are safe, that's all that matters. Until Travers is able to get Dawn's blood, he can't discover what we know to be true."
"And that gives us time to get Bitty away from him." Spike added. Tara hovered at his side, attempting to tend to his wounds.
"How many men are in the house?" Willow asked.
"Six. Four men are situated on the second floor. That's where the nursery is. The other two are positioned on the ground floor at the front and back of the house." Halllie replied. "There is also Joanna, the nanny, but she'll help you."
Buffy arched her brow. "Oh, really?"
"Believe me, Buffy. She only wants to help return your daughter to you."
"So, we're up against six humans." Spike commented. Buffy heard the hesitation in his voice.
"Will that be a problem, Spike?" Giles questioned. Buffy knew the answer to the question, but some battles Spike was going to have to handle on his own.
All eyes were on him, but he didn't flinch under their combined gawking. "Harming or killing humans, Rupert? That's the real stitch, isn't it? I can hold back and not kill 'em, but if it comes down to me and mine, it won't end well for them."
Buffy's gaze shifted between the two men in her life. Would she allow Spike to kill in order to save Bitty? In a heartbeat. Would she allow him to exact revenge in Bitty's name? No. Their souls, and yes, she believed Spike had a soul, were too important to waste on Travers or Warren.
"Fine." Giles finally stated. "Xander, Hallie, we'll need a description of the house, points of entry…" Giles' voice faded out as he drew the others into command central aka the dining room.
Buffy encircled Spike tightly within her grasp. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, taking comfort in his strength.
"You okay, luv?" Spike whispered into her hair. "I know what Travers did upset you more than you let on."
Buffy sniffed, trying to keep the tears inside. "I…I hurt because she hurts. I feel so helpless, so incompetent."
Spike shook his head, tsking in her ear. "That's utter rubbish, Buffy. You're doing all you can to get to her. I'm bloody proud of you. You're the strongest woman I know."
Buffy's chuckle was muffled by his shirt. "I'm only strong because of you. You, Dawn, Giles, Tara, Willow, even Xander. You've kept me sane. I know it's as hard if not harder for you." She looked up then, hazel eyes swimming in a pool of tears.
Spike shrugged. "When you died, there was no hope, and I survived because of the Bit. It hurts and it's painful to not have Bitty with us, but I know she will be soon."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yvonne squinted from her position in the window as Travers' car pulled into the courtyard. Even from this distance, she would have recognized the bent and gait of the elderly man exiting the car.
"He returns." She said, more to herself, than to inform the man seated on the other side of her desk.
"Do we have any idea where he's been?" Edgar asked. Since his call to Reginald, he'd barely been able to contain his joy. His son was alive. Mute, but alive. Olivia's deliverance of that news had not dampened Edgar's happiness. It only steeled his desire to see Quentin Travers rot in hell for all eternity.
Yvonne stepped away from the window, but did not sit. She was too agitated, too wired to sit down.
"My contact at the airport says Scotland, but the destination could have been changed in flight."
Edgar shook his head. "I doubt it. We spoke to Rupert Giles today. He says the Prophecy child is in Scotland." Edgar steeped his fingers before him. "Travers went to visit her. The timing is too coincidental."
"I wish our operative was able to ascertain just what he has planned for the meeting, but so far, he's revealed nothing of importance."
Yvonne perched on the edge of her desk. "These are very difficult times, Edgar. The fate of the Council hangs in the balance. We will either come out of the Executive meeting stronger as a group or in the midst of war."
"One we," Edgar emphasized, "can't afford to lose."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday
April 15, 1889
My hands are soiled with the blood of innocents. Even Henri, in his most vile of days, had not killed his family. Martine was my family. She was my daughter, my niece. She was a part of me, and I betrayed her. Now, I stand in a pool of her blood and I feel it burn into my soul, damning me for all eternity.
I cannot see the men as they file out of the room, their bodies reflecting the fight Martine put up to protect her child. She was outnumbered. She never had a chance.
They expect me to be grateful for what they have done. I cannot fault them. They did their duty. I am the one who failed. I should have warned Martine. I should have sheltered her. I should have understood the love she and Henri had. I should have seen the beauty in their creation, their child, their miracle.
All I can see is red and gray, their blood and his ashes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
April 16, 1989
It has taken all night for me to work up the courage to face Martine. Though she lies dead at the foot of the bed, I still remember the fire she possessed in her blue eyes. They could cut you with a glance as sharp as an icicle freshly broken. I am weakened by my shame, but I know I have to do this. I have to honour their lives. It is my last act as her Watcher, her friend. I am the only one who can.
I placed her on a white sheet I found. I believe she had the fresh linens nearby for the birth. The irony that her child's birth day is also his death day is not lost on me. The linens she prepared to bring him into this world will shelter him as he goes to the next.
Henri's ashes are the hardest for me to gather. There is a slight breeze and it has stirred the pile. In a way the breeze is able to do what I am not. The bodies of his beloved and their child are coated with his essence. As I tuck the sheet around Martine's head, I enshrine this family for all eternity.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Travers shook his head at the sentimental droll written by Jayme.
"Fool. You were doing your job. She was a rogue. Meant to be put down." Travers threw the book on the coffee table without so much as a backward glance. He strolled to the window, his hands firmly clenched behind his back.
"The Council has been around for centuries. Each member sworn to protect the Slayer line and ensure their success in the battle against evil. No one Slayer is more important that the overall fight, and yet, this man thought she was. It's pathetic really. Too much emotion spent on one girl."
Ms. Henly nodded in agreement, though the words and the callousness, with which they were voiced, pained her. "Yes, Mr. Travers." She didn't understand what the passage had to do with the responses she'd brought in to him, but she knew better than to voice a question, especially when her boss was in a foul mood as this.
"Mr. Jayme was soft. He was weak. His actions would bring about his death, if he were alive. He betrayed his oath to the Council. He chose to work against us. His actions could have brought about the destruction of all we hold dear, yet all anyone can consider is Buffy Summers."
The Slayer. She was almost as revered around the halls of the Council, as Travers was feared. She'd died twice, and still returned from the dead to fight the good fight. She'd taken up with not one, but two vampires. Yes, Buffy Summers was an enigma, but a respected enigma.
Quentin sighed. It was truly defeating. He had a vision of what the Council could be, and there, standing in his way were Buffy, Spike, and Giles. Only two more days, he thought giddily. Two more days, and they will be inconsequential. Two more days, and he'd be invincible.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Xander crept down the stairs, intent on settling things with Buffy before she left. He had avoided this conversation for days, wanting to allow her time to recover and… Forget her child? Not likely Harris. Whatever he hoped, it was now all for naught. He couldn't let her go without telling her how he felt, and letting her know the decision he'd made.
Why had the never thought to use the basement before for training? Well, they were forced too now. It was the only place it seemed to move about freely without being observed.
He stopped on the bottom stair.
"Can I come down?"
"It's a free country." She quipped, smiling tightly at him. She was more than grateful for what he'd done for them, but Buffy still found it difficult to ease back into their former relationship.
Xander peered over her shoulder and sighed. The journal. He had perfect timing.
"Not exactly light reading, Buffy." Xander uttered quietly.
"No, it isn't. But it's truth." She said, closing the book. "Jayme knew he was to blame for Martine and Henri's deaths and he took responsibility for it. He didn't hide his shame."
"Ouch. Guess I deserved that."
Buffy's eyes widened and she quickly jumped up off the step to pace the narrow confines of the basement.
"You have to know it isn't easy for me, Xander." Tears burned her hazel eyes, blurring her vision. "She's gone. Our daughter is in danger because of you. I blame you, Xander."
"I blame myself, Buffy. I can't put it all on Travers. You know me." He implored. Xander fisted his hands at his side. He wanted to reach out and touch her, comfort her, but knew he'd end up in a cast if he did. "I was the perfect butt-monkey. I set myself up." New, improved, retrospective Xander could admit what he'd always been, and not feel the funnies coming on.
"I turned my back on my friends, on my family. I drank too much. I felt sorry for myself. I had a big, honking sign that said 'use me' on my ass."
A small smile crept onto Buffy's face, unbidden, of course, which brought a smile to Xander's face. Self-deprecation had always been a big hit with the ladies, but especially with Buffy, who had her own problems with self-esteem and self-worth. He had gotten her to smile, but the battle was far from won, if ever.
Silence descended on the room, the only sound the slight clunk of Xander's boots as he hopped onto the washing machine.
"I never meant to hurt Bitty."
Buffy looked up from her perusal of her toes. It was the first time in many weeks she'd heard her daughter's name uttered from Xander's mouth. "I know, but she was hurt. I was hurt. Tara and Dawn were hurt. Spike was hurt."
Xander rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension of the last week twisting his muscles into knots. "I know none of this will make up for what has passed, Buffy. When you bring Bitty home…If you want me to leave, to leave Sunnydale, I will."
Life without Xander. Buffy was stunned by the implications. Would it do any good?
Rubbing her palm against her eye, Buffy snorted. "Running away won't change what's happened. Won't change anything at all."
She hugged the pages to her bosom, staring at Xander with mixed emotions. She wanted to forgive him. She really did. It took up too much space in her heart to be angry with him. She didn't hate him, but she was disappointed. But siblings did that all the time, didn't they?
"I told you a couple of months ago that you would need to earn forgiveness from Anya one day at a time. The same goes for me. So let's just take it one day at a time, Xan. I can't tell you what I'll feel tomorrow or the next day or the next month. All I can focus on right now is Bitty."
At
Xander's nod, she moved past him and made her way up the stairs. She paused
near the door, turning her head. Xander couldn't see her face as it was
shadowed by the darkness of the stairs.
"Xander?"
"Yeah." He shifted his head to give her his full attention.
"This is day one." She said, opening the door and stepping into the light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I read on the internet it's cold this time of year in Scotland." Dawn held the pink checkered blanket in her hands, clutching it tightly. "She'll need this."
Spike laid his hand over Dawn's. "Thanks, Bit. I'll let her know her Aunt Dawn sent it for her."
Dawn's face scrunched up as she held back tears. "I've been trying to concentrate on her so we can talk, but I can't get anything. I don't hear anything."
Spike pulled Dawn towards the bed, and gently urged her to sit. "I was so jealous of you for awhile there." He admitted. Disbelief clouded the blue eyes staring at him intently.
"You got to talk to her. Feel her. Buffy had Bitty inside of her belly, growing everyday. And I was the only one who couldn't feel her." He glanced at their fingers entwined, and smiled. "But then I'd look at you or Buffy, and I could feel her presence, her spirit in you."
Buffy leaned against the wall, not wanting to disturb them, but unable to leave. Was it any wonder that she loved him? And how had she lied to herself for so long?
"Spike…Dawn…Giles is ready." She said as she retraced her steps up the stairs.
"We're coming." Dawn replied, wiping furiously at her eyes.
Spike folded the blanket, tucking it between his shirts. "Ready, Bit?"
"I'm ready."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dewey slid lower in his seat till only his eyes were visible above the steering wheel. He counted off the individuals filing out of the house. Everyone was accounted for. The only person staying behind was Xander's ex and the witch's girlfriend.
"I still say there's something suspicious about them traveling during the day."
Shackleford ignored him as he had the night previous. "They have their reasons. As long as they board that plane, we don't care. Mr. Travers has things covered on his end if they should arrive in London at some later time. All you need to do is make sure they board that plane. Do you have your ticket?"
Dewey waved the ticket in Shackleford's face. "I've got it."
Shackleford wouldn't admit it, but Dewey had a point. Why were they traveling during the day when there was a possibility of the vampire spontaneously combusting once they landed? Plane rosters had been checked and double checked, and there were no other reservations made for Buffy and Spike Develin or for Elizabeth and William Summers. But Shackleford hadn't survived this long without paying attention to his senses. They were definitely up to something. Keeping Dewey in their sights, on their tail, would allow Shackleford to drift back and take up surveillance from a wider vantage point.
The SUV pulled out of the drive, and headed down the street for the airport. Dewey waited until they'd gone through two stop signs before heading after them. In a small city like Sunnydale, traffic wasn't a problem.
Inside the Jeep, Spike shifted into game face. His superior vision allowed him to see the car carrying Travers' men.
"We've got company." Spike announced. "They are the third car behind us. It's the same car that was parked across the street."
Giles looked in the rearview mirror, slowing down to allow the men to keep the Jeep in their sight. "Now, that we have our captive audience. We can proceed with our plans. Buffy and Spike are going to meet us inside the old cargo hanger behind the terminal. We'll teleport them from there. Dawn, Willow, and myself will then return to the house for stage two of the plan."
They'd discussed the plan ad nauseum, but no one complained about Giles' need to go over it again.
"Stage two. Dawn as bait." Dawn said gaily.
"Dawn…" Buffy said exasperated. "I don't want you taking this lightly. These men are dangerous."
Dawn huffed in her seat, throwing an exasperated sigh of her own in Buffy's direction. "I'm not taking this lightly. I know they are dangerous. I also know I'm the only one who can do this. It's my blood they want. It's me they have to take to get it."
Buffy's emotions were too close to the surface to let Dawn's words roll of her back like water off a duck. She turned away before anyone saw her tears. Dawn saw them, as did Spike.
"I never asked you to act as bait. I've always protected you." Buffy said softly.
"I'm old enough to make my own decisions Buffy. I love Bitty. I would have done it even if you hadn't asked." Dawn scooted closer to Buffy, wrapping her arm around Buffy's and laying her head on Buffy's shoulders, the way they did when they were younger.
Spike shook off the tears and stared straight ahead. Knowing if he looked at them, he'd bawl too. Instead, he reached across and clasped his hand on theirs.
Giles cleared his throat, touched by the scene in the back. "Well…as I was saying, stage two will commence with Dawn's subsequent abduction and our capturing of Travers' thugs. If all goes according to plan, Willow and I will meet up with you in London on Wednesday."
Willow turned in her seat. "Buffy, are you sure you want to confront Travers? I can teleport you back to Sunnydale."
Buffy sat up, wiping her cheeks of moisture. "Bitty's too young for interdimensional travel. We don't know what the spell will do to her. We can't risk it."
"Just wanted to be sure. Here, I made it for Bitty."
Buffy looked at the tiny bracelet and smiled. "Oh, her first bracelet. How cute."
Willow giggled. "It's not just any bracelet. It's a protection bracelet. Sorta like the amulet Dawn has on. It'll keep her safe if you run into any danger." Which is a given, given who they were. Willow reflected.
"Thanks, Red." Spike said, pocketing the bracelet.
"We're here." Giles announced, pulling into the underground parking. "Everyone ready?"
Buffy's eyes shut briefly.
We're coming, Bitty. Mommy and Daddy are coming.
"Let's do this."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shackleford slammed the phone down in its cradle, cracking the phone base. He should have snapped the neck of the Slayer when he had the chance. Now, she and her demon husband were missing. There'd been no sign of them once their plane had arrived in New Orleans. Where were they?
Shackleford angrily snatched up the phone again, dreading the ass-chewing he was about to receive from Quentin.
"Yes, this is Travers."
"They are missing." Shackleford said without hesitation. "My people can't find a trace of them in Sunnydale or New Orleans."
There was silence, then laughter. It was the latter, which scared Shackleford. He was not personally invested in Travers' mental welfare, but even he knew a semi-sane boss was better than an insane one. He had visions of Marlon Brando in Apocalypse Now.
"Sir, are you alright?" Shackleford tried for concern. He missed by a mile.
"Yes, I'm quite alright Mr. Shackleford. I'm sorry for my inappropriate humor. It's the irony of the situation. They have gone through all the trouble of implementing this subterfuge, only to have it be fruitless." Quentin chuckled again.
"What would you like for me to do?" Shackleford interrupted.
A long, drawn out sigh signaled Travers' vexation. "Take the girl. Take the blood. Return to London. It's all very simple. You don't require a diagram do you?"
Shackleford bristled at the tone, but did nothing more than grit his teeth. "No, sir. I don't. I'll see you in London in a two days."
Quentin hung the phone up, knowing implicitly that his orders would be obeyed. Shackleford was not a fool. There were too many resources available to Quentin. He could make Mr. Shackleford disappear in a blood red haze or in huge pieces. It would not matter. While he was loath to admit he'd underestimated Buffy and Spike, he had to admire their tenacity. He wondered how long it would be before he was visited by the twosome. He found himself excited at the prospect of destroying Buffy once and for all. Maybe, he'd plan something special for them. Quentin leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers in front of him. He had an active imagination. He was sure he could come up with something devastated.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outsmarted by a bunch of amateurs. Shackleford raged. Did they think this was a joke? Did they think he was a fool? They must have because they mocked him at every turn. If he was honest with himself, he would admit Dewey had been right all along. But he wasn't the type to admit wrong, so he had dismissed Dewey's warning.
Dewey, on the other hand, knew he was courting death by gloating, but he couldn't help it. There was egg on Shackleford's face.
"What now?" Dewey drawled. "What does Mr. Travers want us to do to rectify this situation?"
Shackleford gripped the knife tightly and flung the blade across the room. Dewey didn't flinch, and the blade buried itself in the wall behind him. Message sent and delivered.
"He wants us to grab the girl, and meet him in London by Wednesday."
"That doesn't give us much time." Dewey commented, then wished he hadn't when Shackleford flew across the room and pinned him up against the wall. Dewey's eyes bulged as the forearm across his throat cut off his air. He clawed ineffectively at the limb, but Shackleford wouldn't let up.
"Do I have your attention?"
Dewey nodded with difficulty. "Good. Now, listen up. This isn't a democracy. I'm the commander on this mission. You will follow my orders or I'll skin your mother alive. I'll take my time, draw it out, make her suffer. And you'll watch from a chair, but you won't be able to scream because I'll have removed your tongue. We will get Dawn Summers tomorrow at school. We will take her. We will take her blood, and we will fly together to London. You won't say another word or offer anymore of your advice. Do we understand each other?"
"Y…Yes." Dewey gasped as Shackleford released him. Dewey fell to the floor, holding his hands to this throat.
Shackleford pulled his knife out of the wall, checking the blade to see if it'd chipped. He blew on the tip, sprinkling bits of plaster on Dewey's heaving back.
Satisfied for the moment, he stepped around him, and headed for the shower.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her sister was the Slayer. Her brother-in-law was a vampire. So why was Dawn, the Key, being asked to write on the feudal system of England? Gritting her teeth, Dawn tried to concentrate on the test booklet before her. It just seemed pretty silly to be focused on World History when she was about to be kidnapped.
She really should take the threat more seriously, but it was rather hard to do that when she knew there was a small army outside the school watching her every move. The ring on her finger brought her further security. Willow and Tara had imbued the crystal in the center with the properties of a simple locator spell. All she had to do was rub it, and it activated. So where was the danger? She wondered. She really hoped they didn't drug her. She wanted to get her licks in.
"Time's up." Mr. Sario announced. "Pens down."
Dawn slapped her pen down on the desk, a little too hard, judging by the looks from her fellow students. By the time, Mr. Sario picked up her booklet; she was fairly bouncing in her seat.
"Excited about the summer, Ms. Summers?" He asked in passing, then seemed to arrest as he realized who she was. The girl who's niece was kidnapped. "You could have made this up. I know your family is dealing with some pressing issues right now."
Dawn plastered a smile on her face, trying to not to gag. Pressing issues, my ass. "Yes, but Buffy says life must go on, so here I am."
He patted her on the shoulder and continued down the aisle. Dawn waited impatiently for him to count the booklets, place them just so on his desk, before he said the magic words. "Have a good summer, people. Use your brains."
Hallelujah.
The praise was repeated by Dewey, who was stuck inside the janitorial closet. He eased the door open, peering down the corridor. As soon as the bell sounded, the doorways opened to loud chattering children. It was easy to spot Dawn Summers in the crowd. She was taller than most of the girls, and she was alone.
Dawn kept her head down, and her senses tuned sharply to her surroundings. She made the perfect target. She'd turned down Lisa's offer of a free lunch at the mall. Most of the kids were heading that way, grateful for the end of another school year. As Dawn approached her locker, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She spun around, her eyes widening at the sight of the chloroform-laden cloth. She struck out, hitting the older man in the shins. She continued kicking till her eyes rolled back and she slumped into the waiting arms of Dewey.
"Hurry up, man. Do you want us to get caught?"
Dewey hefted the lanky girl into his arms, and hid his smile in her hair. If anyone deserved to be caught and thrown into a cell, it was Shackleford.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tara gasped as the crystal by her side, turned green.
"They've got her." She told Willow. She didn't like this plan, even though, she knew it was the only way to ensure Buffy, Spike, and Bitty's safety. Dawn was like a little sister to her, and Tara got queasy just thinking of her in the hands of Travers' men.
"She'll be alright, baby. Don't worry." Willow assured her. "Giles, they've got Dawn. Do you see them?"
Giles and Anya peered out their respective windows. It was difficult to get a clear look with the mass of kids spilling out of the place.
"I see them." Anya said excitedly. "North corner. They're coming near you, Xander."
Xander and Clem ducked down in the seat as Dewey and Shackleford passed by. Of course, there was no need for that. Clem had offered his Bug as a stakeout vehicle, since Dewey knew Xander's car. Clem peeked in his rearview mirror, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he watched Dewey dump Dawn into the backseat.
"He'd better not hurt her." Clem growled.
Xander agreed, even though, the sound of Clem growling had him straining in his seat to see if the demon had burst a blood vessel doing it.
"Follow them, but don't let them see you." Giles warned them, as the three cars pulled out behind the unsuspecting duo.
