Buffy and Oz strolled casually into the library on Monday afternoon with plans to meet with Giles. The friends were discussing an invitation for a family camping trip that Oz's uncle had extended when he called over the weekend. The musician was debating whether to go or to hang around in hopes that the Dingos got a gig. Buffy had voted he should spend some time with his little cousin and Oz had countered that she should come along on the trip to the woods. Buffy had snorted. Although roughing it in a tent was definitely not what she considered a fun weekend, she was waiting to see if Oz was going to attempt to convince her otherwise. The teen secretly planned to accompany him but wasn't ready to give in yet. She found it amusing when Oz employed his own kind of logic to his arguments. They tended to be quirky yet smart bits of logic. Buffy smirked for a moment as she considered the weird outcome of the last thing he coaxed her into doing. She smiled as she decided that there was no way camping could touch on the strangeness that was trick or treat night with Xander and Willow.
Buffy called a greeting to her watcher as she hopped onto the large library table. She shifted the chair by her legs so that she had more room and settled comfortably in place. After pulling off her shoulder strap, the Slayer dropped her leather courier bag beside her hip. She gently tucked the edge of her skirt around her knees and slid her hands absently along her arms and adjusted the length of her sleeves. She watched as Giles exited his office with a notebook and pen in his hand. He returned the Slayer's hello and nodded to Oz.
The musician likewise nodded his greeting as he settled into one of the wooden chairs that was within reach of his friend. He pulled Buffy's French notebook from her bag and started an outline for her to study on her test scheduled at the end of the week. He had completed the same class last year and was pretty sure he remembered what she was going to need to know for the test. With half his attention, he listened to Buffy start rambling about Halloween night to Mr. Giles. With the other half, he scratched out a study guide in small, neat print for the Slayer to review. He might not be overly concerned about tests and the like but he had realized that his new friend stressed over what she saw as her academic failings. The study guide was something simple he could do to help her without really drawing attention to her insecurities.
After Buffy shared her side of the happenings during trick or treat, Giles provided a better explanation of the magic side of the chaotic event. Neither Buffy nor Oz made any comments on Rupert's guilty admission that the chaos sorcerer behind the magic was a friend from his youth. The British gentleman was pleasantly surprised by the lack of teasing from Buffy at least. He had been expecting it. In an attempt to deflect any further possible speculation on their part, the librarian then prodded his charge for the actual reason for her wanting to meet. The ex-Watcher normally had to hunt his Slayer down to get her interested in the research side of things. He nodded encouragingly at the teen who seemed more relaxed than he had seen her in months. She was smiling softly and swinging her feet as if she had excess energy that needed some direction. It wasn't a nervous motion; it was almost like a little kid playing. The small observation provided the British gentleman a moment of his own pleasure. Although he would not volunteer the sentiment verbally, the Watcher had missed Buffy's almost innocent enthusiasm for things not slayer related. He was tickled to see her display even a tiny bit of her lost excitement even if fidgeting normally set his nerves on edge.
"So was there something specific that concerned you about the spell? You said that you had something important to share," Rupert prompted.
"Yup," confirmed the Slayer as her grin shifted to a bit more serious an expression. "You already know that we were inside ourselves but not able to control our bodies. Thing is, I got to remember the experience like I really was God's Holy Warrior. I wanted to share some of the things I learned."
Rupert grinned and settled at the table to take notes.
"First off, I totally rocked the soul magic and it really isn't fair I couldn't keep that. Think whoever works the mojo for making Slayers could add that in as a perk? Just think how great it would be for us to never need to carry around weapons. Need a weapon, poof, have a magic weapon. That would be so the thing."
Oz snorted.
"Sorry, Buffy. Being Chosen is not an a la carte kinda service," Giles expressed.
Buffy smiled and shrugged.
"Yeah, too bad. I would totally want demon gut resistance powers for my clothes," she decided with a twinkle in her eyes. "Anyway, my Angel self did some funky soul seeking stuff while I had the chance."
Buffy pulled her hands into her lap and nervously pulled at the bottom of her shirt.
"I kinda put a beating on Angel," she admitted.
"I know," Giles replied with a complete lack of censor in his voice.
Surprised at the lack of scolding for attacking one of their allies, Buffy raised her head to meet Giles gaze. She noticed complete acceptance and perhaps even a small bit of amusement in her Watcher's eyes. The expression provided her all the encouragement she needed to jump into her first real concern.
"Angel's soul is kinda wonky," she stated.
Oz's pen stopped writing and he turned his full attention to his friend. This part of the conversation was something the Slayer had not shared with him yet.
"Wonky how?" Rupert pressed as he picked up his pen and set the point to his notebook.
"Like when my dad used to take me to the park and ride on the see-saw with me."
A slight smirk skirted across Oz's lips as he noted the slightly pained expression on Mr. Giles' face. The musician wondered why the librarian bothered with the pinched response to Buffy's little wacky ideas. They might have been a bit off the wall but he had found them to have merit every time she offered them.
The older man sighed softly and pulled off his glasses. He set them on the table beside his notebook and asked for clarification. Buffy happily obliged.
"My dad used to push me on the swings at the park. I loved the swings and would do it for hours if given the chance but when he finally got tired, dad would put me on the end of the see-saw. I would hold onto the little handlebar thingy and then he would sit on the other side. Thing is, he was so much bigger than me that he had to perch like halfway up the plank. He had to find the right spot cause he couldn't sit at the other end or I would have snapped up high and most likely fallen off and cracked my head open. Anyway, dad would slide on the wood plank until he found the perfect perch point where he could sit and balance across from me and we could teeter-totter up and down. Lots of fun for a kid but not as much work as pushing me on the swing."
"So you're saying Angel's soul is teeter-tottering?" Giles clarified.
"Absolutely. He is all with the just balancing there. All it would take is a little push to the wrong side and off it will fly."
Giles frowned.
"Are you sure?" he questioned. "His soul has been there for decades. If it was so precariously placed, don't you think it would have already toppled?"
Buffy gently bit her lower lip but still shook her head in the negative.
"From what the Angel read from him, a curse pulled his soul from the Pit and forced it back into his body. On one side of Angel's see-saw is his soul and the other side has all his sins. When he met the Angel, he said that he was seeking redemption but the sins he believes his soul carries are what helps keep him balanced. If he loses the sin, the guilt, for even a moment, his soul is gonna fly off into the sunset and Angel is gonna shatter on the playground cement. He needs the pain and guilt to keep his soul attached. Too much happy happy joy joy and bye bye soul."
Buffy shuddered as she recalled the vivid description of the actions of Angelus and Darla that she had read in Giles' books. It was a terrifying thought. In addition, Buffy still didn't quite understand why the Angel power hadn't fixed the soul. It would have been the more compassionate thing to do for the vampire. Buffy shook her head. To her young eyes, she figured that was part of the problem. The Angel had not held any love or compassion. Glorified purpose had been its only drive. It would hurt or destroy to seek the furthering of its Holy Quest. It did not consider the needs of others. Only its destiny was important. Everything else was useless in the powerful beings eyes.
Buffy shuddered. She hated the thought of cold purpose without humanity. She never wanted to feel like that again. In fact, that short sighted Holy Purpose had left her with a potentially dangerous situation.
"I really don't want to be facing off against Angelus. I have enough problems dealing with his buddy Spike. I don't need them recreating the Whirlygig fun."
"Whirlwind," Giles corrected absently as he replaced his glasses and then wrote a few notes on his paper. "And you are correct. We will need to talk to Angel. Perhaps look into the curse and see if there is anything we can do to ensure that his soul stays where it belongs. Perhaps I can ask Jenny to assist with the research since it is magic related. She might get me faster results. You have your hands full with Spike and Drusilla and the Master. We certainly don't need to add another of the line to the mix."
"OH!" squeaked Buffy. "Um, not needing to worry too much over Drusilla now. Angel me kinda un-vamped her."
"Un-vamped?" Giles repeated incredulously as he looked up from his rapidly penned notes.
Buffy nodded proudly like she expected Giles to give her a cookie and a pat on the head.
"Yup... I totally slayed her vampy-demon, called her soul from the Pit, and then shoved it back into her restored body. Best of all, no funky curse involved so no teeter-totter soul."
"Dear Lord," Rupert stammered in equal parts horror and awe. "You resurrected Drusilla?"
Disappointed that her Watcher was not offering her at least verbal cookies, Buffy nodded a bit self consciously.
"What happened to her?"
"Spike dragged her off."
Giles sighed.
"Well, then I suspect he will have just sired her again."
Buffy looked crestfallen. She hadn't thought that far. Perhaps if she had gotten to Spike while she was possessed, she would have been only facing the ongoing threat of the still trapped Master instead of the immediate worries the one or possibly two free vampires posed. Her shoulders slumped and the twinkle in her eyes faded a bit. She silently cursed at Spike and his ability to escape her attacks. Even with her own skills souped up with divine power, he had literally slipped out of her fingertips. Buffy barely contained the urge to growl. Instead she shook her head. Spike truly was an impressive opponent. A strange little flash of respect wiggled into her thoughts only to be squashed quickly.
"Sorry, Giles," she muttered dishearteningly. Her tone brought an immediate response from both her companions.
"No, no, my dear. It isn't a problem. In fact, it might be a good thing," the Watcher consoled. "After all, fledglings are significantly less powerful than older vampires. You have obviously struck a blow by reducing the strength of a vampire who was well over a century in age."
Oz nudged the side of Buffy's hip with her French notebook. She turned her head to meet his concerned eyes.
"Hey, perhaps the potential for something else is there," he offered evenly but with a hint of emotion linked to the key word.
Buffy's eyes narrowed slightly at her friend's emphasis on the word potential. She softly repeated the word. Oz nodded in reply.
"Potential for what?" Giles questioned.
Both teens turned back to the librarian.
"Just potential," Buffy offered with a bit of a lift in spirit as if that simple reply explained everything to her mentor.
Rupert frowned in confusion and would have pressed for details if Oz had not interrupted.
"Just go with it," he suggested. "It's got potential for change. We should see where it goes before we panic in the streets."
"Ah yes, of course," Giles supported with a nod. Although he did not understand the two teen's obviously personal code, the Watcher doubted it would lead too far into danger. The librarian had observed that the older teen was a stabilizing force in his Slayer's life and so he could not imagine the boy leading Buffy astray. He smiled indulgently. "Panic in the streets doesn't help much of anything."
"Panic is of the bad," Buffy stated with a sly grin of her own growing on her face. "You know what is of the good?"
When both her companions gave her their complete attention to finish her thought, she offered it.
"A weekend off."
When Giles questioned her request, Buffy was quick to explain about the possible camping trip with Oz that was planned towards the end of November. Giles immediately called into question her commitment to her responsibilities. He stood as he spoke with conviction and passion about his Slayer's calling. Buffy and Oz listened to the British man's diatribe for a few moments before having enough. The Watcher had just started on his much repeated points of higher standards for Chosen when Buffy interrupted.
Unlike in the past, Buffy didn't snap at Giles in reply. Neither did she pout. Instead, she simply held her hand up and told him to stop. Startled by the teen's calm response, Rupert halted his speech in mid sentence. Buffy lowered her hand.
"Nope..." the Slayer simply stated with a shake of her head before she shifted her gaze from her previously ranting Watcher to her quietly supportive friend. Oz offered her an encouraging nod before dropping his head to concentrate on the notebook and textbook. The senior didn't need to pay attention to this part. He already suspected what Buffy was about to say and he wholly supported her decision. In fact, he had listened to her over the weekend and even helped her make a multicolored list in support of Buffy's proposed theory. He figured the guru of the weird and wacky was in for a serious shock.
"Nope?" Giles repeated softly in confusion.
"Exactly," Buffy returned as she slipped from the tabletop with a little bounce. She glanced up at the librarian with a surprisingly confident expression on her face and a body stance that reminded the older gentleman of his previously self-assured charge. She once more appeared the passionate and enthusiastic teen from last year. The only difference was the physical trappings, her clothes and hair. Upon closer consideration, he also noticed a more pronounced maturity in his Slayer's bearings.
"I died," Buffy stated simply.
Giles frowned. He didn't understand the point especially in light of the more positive attitude his charge was displaying. He repeated her statement to confirm it was fact.
"A new Slayer was called in China or Japan or something, right?"
"India," Rupert supplied.
"Right. India. So, this new girl gets all chosen and she is now the Slayer."
Giles appeared uncomfortable for a moment.
"Actually, she died at the end of June. I believe the newest Slayer was called in Italy."
"Oh..." Buffy paused as a pained expression flashed across her face. She gulped a few deep breaths as her eyes rimmed with tears for some unknown girl on the other side of the world who lost her life at the hands of some demon or vampire.
"What was her name?"
Giles was startled.
"I actually don't know," he admitted sheepishly. Only rarely were Slayers actually known to non-related Watchers by name. They were normally just referred to as The Slayer. With his dismissal from the Council, Giles had no one who would have informed him of the previous or the newest Slayers' names. He only knew the basics about the first ones death and the second ones calling because of the information assistance they had provided the Council in warning about the burning borders event.
Seemingly regaining her resolve after her moment of sorry on behalf of the now dead Indian Slayer, Buffy wiped the corners of her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. Where last year that motion would have smeared her make-up, the action only dried her tears now since she still had not resumed wearing mascara.
"I am Buffy Anne Summers," she stated firmly as she lifted her chin defiantly. She had recaptured her proper train of thought and was ready to lay the entire track clear for her mentor's consideration.
"Of course," Giles replied in confusion.
An annoyed frown marred Buffy's lips for a moment.
"You don't get it. I am Buffy. I was the Slayer. Sure, I was Chosen but that didn't change the me that is me. I was and still am Buffy."
The librarian still appeared confused.
"That's one of the other things I figured out with that whole being an angel spell. Just like a Slayer, angel-me had a divine purpose. It was my job to wipe out all that was profane against the Father. A holy calling with a higher purpose."
"Slayer me was supposed to protect the world from the vampires and demonic beings that threaten humanity. Not that much different. Both were warriors for a force that might be considered all about the good."
"Of course a Slayer works for the forces of good," Giles tried to stress.
"Whose good?" Buffy countered which caused Rupert to frown.
The teen shook her head.
"No... never mind, that is way off point and not gonna help with this discussion. Anyway, I was chosen as the Slayer and I died as the Slayer. A new one was called. The Choice was passed onto the next girl. And the next one after that. Yes, I came back but not as the Slayer."
Buffy stopped her slight pacing and stared directly at her mentor.
"You are not a Watcher anymore," she stated concisely.
When Giles started to stutter indignantly, Buffy grinned and waved away his flustered response.
"It's fine that you aren't all with the needy tweedy," she continued. "In fact, it's way great. Cause, well, I am not the Slayer anymore. I am the Daughter. I don't need a Watcher anymore."
Giles stiffened and appeared offended for a moment. Buffy immediately reached out and rested her hand gently on his suit coat enclosed arm. She offered him an affectionate smile.
"I still need a Giles though," she stressed. She grinned at the older man. Her hand flexed gently on the librarian's forearm. "I don't need a Watcher but I still need you."
Buffy then started into a ramble about all the wonderful ways that Giles contributed to her life. He provided her stability and support. He freely shared his knowledge and time. He found the obscure facts that helped keep her alive against strange and unusual threats. He even reluctantly embraced her less than traditional approach to slaying.
Rupert fell silent as he listened to his young charge rave about his place in her previous life. A gentle warmth seemed to settle in his stomach and he could not help but smile softly in happiness and appreciation for the rambling sentiment the teen offered. His previous anxiety over her denial of her chosen calling dimmed in light of the obvious regard his Slayer held for him and his contribution to protecting the world. He finally stammered an interruption into Buffy's ramble when he realized that she was starting to repeat herself a bit.
He shifted his right hand to gently pat the hand resting on his left forearm before extracting his arm from her grip. He thanked Buffy for her compliments then shifted back towards the table. He pulled out a chair and nodded towards another one. The ex-Watcher requested the Slayer have a seat and start her explanation again. He was ready to hear her logic on why she was no longer the Slayer.
Forgoing the chair in favor of once more hopping onto the table to perch on its large expanse, Buffy jumped back into her explanation of why she was no longer the Slayer. She used Giles own explanation of what a Slayer is as the mainstay of her explanation. If there was only one girl called to fight the forces of darkness then Buffy must no longer be the Slayer if there was a new one anywhere else in the world. The new girl was Chosen as the new plaything for the Powers That Be. The teen ended her argument by stressing her status as the Daughter and that the Daughter was outside the jurisdiction of the Powers. She was beholding only to the Entity that returned her to life.
"It all comes down to what the cleaner God said," she finalized as Giles cringed at the teen's blatant mangling of the Entity's reference when she encountered it in the Vacuity. The librarian silently hoped that said God did not choose to smite the pretty girl for her lack of respect. He could not imagine any God would want to be thought of as a Vacuum God.
"I made a choice to return to life as the Daughter. I have to follow that destiny instead of the one passed onto another girl when I died."
Buffy noticed Giles obvious worry over her decision to abandon her calling as a Slayer. She shook her head and reached out to still his hand which was rapidly tapping his spectacles on the tabletop.
"I am not giving up the fight against evil, Giles," Buffy offered as she prevented the nervous fidget of her ex-Watcher's eye wear.
Relief flooded Giles' expression.
"I can't abandon the people who will be hurt if I don't use my skills and gifts. I had the option to rest and enjoy my reward for fulfilling my duty as the Slayer. I made the choice to return. I am making the choice to do what I feel I should do. I may not be the Slayer but I still want to be a force for good. My good though. Not the good determined by the stuffy Watchers in some far off country. Not even the good your books say is good. I want to make my own decision on good."
Buffy once more sprang from her seat since she could not contain her excitement and energy while sitting.
"I also want to make my own decisions on just what my destiny entails. I am not destined to be the Chosen One who dies alone at the hand of some evil. I already did that. I am something different. I am Buffy with a bonus," she stated once more with a proud tilt of her head.
The teen stopped her pacing and stared at her mentor and waited for his response. Silence fell over the room as the British man considered all the arguments his charge had presented. He thought about his treatment at the hands of the Watcher's Council in the past and in reference to his Slayer's death. He thought about his own rebellious youth and how it helped form the foundation of his world view today. He glanced between the two teens in his library. One was studiously scribbling notes to help a preoccupied friend study. The other was waiting expectantly for his answer. Giles could see the tension in Buffy's body as she waiting to hear from him.
He slid his glasses back into place and stood. He cleared his throat.
"So if I am not a Watcher, what will I be?" he offered in way of round about acceptance of the teen's logic.
Buffy grinned and squealed.
"You will be My Giles," she stated happily as she rushed forward and gave her mentor an overly enthusiastic hug which made him sputter indignantly.
"Guru of all things weird and wig-worthy," she added which elicited a snort from Oz as he remembered Buffy describing the librarian's job description as just that when she first explained about her relationship with him on their ill-fated pizza dinner with the Dingos.
Giles returned her smile with a contented one of her own.
"Bit unwieldy as a title," he teased.
"But I can make it work," Giles assured with a final acknowledgment of acceptance. He too raised his head as if an unexpected burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Perhaps embracing a life beyond the Watcher's Council was exactly what the British librarian needed at this point in his life. It was a liberating prospect for him as well as Buffy and he looked forward to the subtle changes Buffy's new commitment to her pursuit of good would bring.
Dalton pushed the door open and slipped hesitantly into the dimly lit bedroom that Spike maintained in the heart of the dilapidated factory they currently called home. He cleared his throat and waited nervously for the bleached blonde to acknowledge his appearance. With the aid of a number of pillar candles burning on the nightstand and dresser, the vampire could easily see the ragged form of his current leader. He cringed a bit as he noticed the poorly healing burns on the other vampire's arms and face. They had to be excruciatingly painful.
"Whatta ya want, Bookworm?" Spike asked in a harsh whisper as he lifted his head to meet the other vampire's gaze. The British vampire continued to run his scarred hand over Drusilla's gleaming hair. She had been suffering from vivid nightmares since her transformation and he hoped his presence would keep them at bay for a little while. The damaged and distressed vampire had spent the last hour patiently brushing the long tresses until they were a soft dark wave and his lover had finally fallen into a peaceful asleep. He hoped she remained asleep through the night but he doubted it would happen.
"Um... I locked the sorcerer you wanted in the closet off the old office. Made sure he was tied and gagged so he couldn't cast anything to help him escape. We left nothing but dust and a ratty blanket in the closet with him."
"Any problems?"
Dalton shook his head no.
"The new kid, Eric, I think his name is, did a great job hunting down the chaos mage. He's not only sneaky but logical and pretty well educated," Dalton added. The new fledgling who had helped him secure the perpetrator of the Halloween debacle had really impressed the timid vampire with his quick thoughts. "Bit of a creep around females and seems a bit more interested in stuff other than dinner when around them but he did find Rayne in less than a day even though he had fled a couple towns to the north. A bit of a scuffle and we have the magic user for the Master's spell. Maybe when all is said and done, we can pass the fellow onto the mayor and cash in on the reward mentioned in the article about the caster?"
Spike snorted at the thought that the chaos mage would survive the spell for his ancestor but he offered the timid vamp a quick nod of thanks as he painfully rose from the edge of the bed. Spike made a point to file away the extra bit of information that he would need to ensure that the smart, young vampire was not allowed near Drusilla if he had an unhealthy interest in women. It was yet another worry to stress his day.
The blonde straightened the edge of the thick comforter so that it better covered the sleeping female. The air in the factory was damp and cold and he worried that it might harm Dru. He sighed. The lair was well and good for vampires to use as a residence but it lacked the comforts that a human required. He really didn't have much choice though. There was no where else to take her. The weary vampire ran his hand through his hair and winced at the pain in his scalp and hand.
Dalton took a few steps into the room and offered a brown bag towards the injured but more power demon. Spike raised his eyebrow in question and the scholar explained that it was pig's blood from the butcher.
"It's not so bad," Dalton offered with a slight shake of the bag. "Not nearly as unappetizing as rat."
"Been hunting in alleys, have you?"
Dalton flinched then sighed. With his lack of killer instinct, the translator had often relied on butcher shops or farms to supplement his diet. Unlike his current companion, he lacked the charm and looks for attracting the easy kills in bars and nightclubs and he fumbled too much to be an effective hunter in the dark alleys and hidden places that the more vicious vamps liked to haunt. Dalton knew his limitations. He accepted them and worked around them as best he could. That meant he knew all the places that sold blood of any types to vamps.
"Not normally," he acknowledged as Spike took his offering and ripped free the plastic top of the Styrofoam container. With a shudder of his own, the blonde chugged the cold, lumpy liquid.
"That is definitely not veal," he muttered in disgust.
"Still better than rat," Dalton repeated.
In response to Spike's raised eyebrow, the bookworm briefly explained how he started his unlife and the need to rely on rats for sustenance when his master had forgotten about the imprisoned vamp in his basement library.
"Guess I will be avoiding rat then," the injured vampire stated in response.
"Good idea," Dalton confirmed as he once more nervously glanced at the figure sleeping under the comforter. The silence in the room grew until the undead translator finally could not stand it any longer.
"Begging your pardon, Spike, but why don't you just turn her again," Dalton questioned as he watched Spike absently pick at the burn scars healing on the back of his arm. Without proper blood intake, he wasn't healing as fast as normal. The blonde vampire had gotten badly charred the first day of Drusilla's new life when he was forced to rush outside to grab her. The dark haired woman had wanted to dance in the sunshine. No amount of pleading worked for Spike to redirect her interest in going outside. Unfortunately, she hadn't paid any attention to the traffic and would have been crushed by a delivery truck without her lover's save.
Spike sighed even though he didn't need the breath.
"I made a promise," he lamented as his gaze shifted back to the bed where Dru now slept fitfully. "I promised her the sunshine."
"Well, for what it is worth, she has it now. Too bad you're still flammable, huh?" Dalton countered.
Spike grimaced.
"Yeah... too bad," he confirmed as he thought about all the other demands Drusilla had made of him. The woman was making even less sense now and that was saying a lot. Her returned soul and her visions seemed to be bombarding her with continuous conflicting images and new moralities that were so different than her thoughts as a demon had been. In turn, the crazy woman demanded he follow her jumbled thoughts and embrace her humanity. He suspected she wanted him to be human too. He shuddered in horror. Spike had no wish to be human once more. He enjoyed being at the top of the food chain and balked at the thought of returning to his human self.
On top of Drusilla's clashing mental state, there had been a number of other problems. Spike had been forced to dust two minions who had tried to drain Dru. The crazy woman had then nagged him for fighting. She scolded him viciously when he tried to leave to hunt. She cried hysterically when the minions brought him back something to eat when he agreed not to leave. At that point, she had been so inconsolable that he had been forced to walk his cursed dinner back home while Dru had clung to his arm and prattled on about how he was going to enjoy the sunshine just as much as she was.
Shaking away the horror that his life had become, Spike turned his attention to the now silent vampire who was staring at the bed without any of the blood-lust that the other vampires seemed to barely contain around his now human consort.
Dalton shook his head in sympathy.
"Perhaps you need another caregiver?" he suggested.
Spike snorted. He doubted he could take out an advertizement in the Sunday paper for someone to look after the insane woman. He could see it now. Bloodsucking creature of the night seeks compassionate individual to watch after insane woman born over a century ago and newly restored to life. Understanding of future vision analysis and acceptance of previous serial killer tendencies a plus. Only morally questionable individuals need apply. Spike shook his head. This situation was a disaster and one he would need to address soon. He couldn't properly protect a human in a world of vampires. William knew he was a hell of a fighter but he wasn't about to gamble Drusilla's life on his skills alone. He needed a plan and he needed one soon.
On top of a picnic table in the quad at Sunnydale High, Buffy and Anya sat in the sunshine discussing plans to visit the Bronze on Friday night. Both girls picked at their unappetizing lunch sandwiches while they discussed the merit of heels over sandals for the brunette's new clubbing outfit. Their third member just rolled his eyes at the topic. Thinking the girls properly distracted by their shoe talk, Oz's hand snaked across the table and snagged a couple green grapes from Buffy's plate. Playfully, Buffy slapped the top of his hand without even looking in the direction of her older friend.
The teen yelped.
"Perhaps it would be best not to damage his hands," Anya offered cheerfully. "Damaged fingers would make it harder to play the guitar."
"Hmm, wouldn't want to slay the Dingos slim chance at fame," Oz teased as he popped one of the purloined fruit into his mouth.
"No worries on the slaying as long as the Dingos avoid the demonic," Buffy countered before a naughty twinkle sparked in her eyes. "Speaking of avoidage... How goes the non-avoidage of Willow?"
Oz's brow crinkled ever so slightly.
"No luck in the red headed groupie acquisition," he admitted. "I invited her to join us for lunch but she had plans to help Ms. Calendar with some test runs on a new program she wrote."
Anya's scowled suddenly as she glared at Oz.
"Why are you seeking time with Willow if you are with Buffy?" Anya questioned in a voice that held an almost scary amount of venom. The senior crossed her arms over her chest and practically beamed hatred from her dark eyes.
Both Oz and Buffy startled at the vicious tone their previously friendly and upbeat companion suddenly used. It was the first time either of them had seen such even a hint of viciousness in their new friend. Buffy started denying any romantic connection with the musician while Oz simply stated firmly that she was not his girlfriend. He used the same tone and flat inflection he had used with Devon's repeated teasing. Oz's lack of emotional response to the accusation cut more efficiently into Anya's displeasure than Buffy's rambling denial did. The previous vengeance demon shifted her gaze back and forth between the two friends.
"You're not dating?"
Both shook their heads in denial while Anya frowned in confusion.
"Oz is a great guy," Buffy stressed with a smile towards her friend before her eyes dimmed a bit. "I am just not in the right place for dating, Anya."
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and shifted on the table top until she was along the edge. She planted her feet on the bench and sighed. Every time she thought about getting physically close to a male, it left her feeling slightly out of control. Her skin crawled and her breath shortened. Oz stood in concern as he noticed Buffy's response to the sudden thoughts invading her mind. He started around the table and reached out to Anya. He nudged her gently to encourage her to shift out of arm reach of the now upset Slayer.
"I still have trouble with guys being in my personal space," Buffy admitted quietly as she held herself tight in her own arms. She closed her eyes and took a couple deep breaths as she attempted to calm her body. She could feel the panic edging along her consciousness and worked to keep the images at bay. "Don't think dating would work well from a couple rooms away."
"But you hang with Oz."
Buffy glanced quickly over at the boy in question who was now standing on her side of the table and taking exaggerated breaths while maintaining an arms distance from the agitated teen. Buffy attempted to mimic his deep breathing and focused on his concerned expression. Her voice came out breathy as she valiantly fought to maintain the conversation.
"Oz is really good with not pushing himself where he isn't wanted. He respects my..."
Buffy's explanation was cut by the sudden arrival of Xander. Her classmate bounced over to the table and slid noisily onto the tabletop and slung his arm over Buffy's shoulder. He opened his mouth to call a greeting but found himself suddenly airborne and the greeting turned into a shriek as he flipped down the table and landed hard on the grass. Buffy had reacted on instinct in her agitated state. She had grabbed the arm her friend slung over her shoulder and used it as a fulcrum along with her increased strength to toss the larger teen the ten feet needed to clear the table and land hard in the grass of the quad. Xander lay in the grass dazed and attempting to relearn how to breathe as Buffy stood in a panic. Instead of running, the teen dropped towards the ground and wrapped her arms around her legs as she knelt on the grass and attempted to make herself as small as possible. A high pitched whine started to escape her lips as she collapsed into herself.
Anya scrambled off the tabletop in fear and her own squeak that did not come close to the volume of Xander's cry. She exchanged a quick look with Oz who glanced once at Xander before crouching on the ground and moving slowly towards the now crying teen.
A crowd of gawkers started to surround the display. Harsh whispers and tittering laughter swept over the crowd. Both Anya and Oz took a moment to glare at the student voyeurs. It did not good at curbing their interest or comments.
"Get Giles," Oz ordered to Anya calmly as he inched a little closer to Buffy.
As the pretty brunette pushed through the crowd, another voice cut across the quad. This one held a lot more power and social weight behind the words.
"Go on," Cordelia's sharp voice ordered as she moved forward into the open space surrounding the picnic table. She positioned herself between the gawkers and the two crouched figures.
"Nothing exciting to see here," the forceful cheerleader added as she waved the onlookers away with her hand as if they were arrant children annoying an unconcerned parent.
"Shoo," she ordered regally and stared expectantly at the onlookers until they started to mutter and wander away from the scene. Queen C continued to stare at the retreating students until they had all vacated the area. She narrowed her eyes and made another sweeping motion towards a group of underclassmen she noticed peeking at the excitement from the corner of the building. The girls jumped at their discovery and quickly hid from Cordelia's probably wrath.
The cheerleader smirked at the obvious affect she held over the student body.
Turning back from her impromptu duty as crowd control, Cordy glanced once at Xander who was finally sitting up. He was wheezing like an old man with emphysema and wincing with every breath. Buffy and Oz were likewise still on the ground. The former had finally stopped keening and the latter was still whispering softly to her as he knelt about a foot from her balled and shaking body.
Cordy moved over the grass and nudged Xander's leg with her designer pump.
"Are you going to survive?" she curtly questioned.
Xander shook his head at first but then grunted and changed it to a nod. He slowly climbed from the ground and took stock of the rest of his body. His shoulder and neck ached from being ripped so sharply and dragging along his weight in the toss. His bottom and lower back hurt from landing in a heap on the grass. As he rubbed absently at his bottom and rolled his neck, Anya returned with a flustered Giles in her grasp.
"Great googly mooglies," Xander muttered as he and Cordy moved closer to Buffy and Oz. "What was that about?"
"Back off," Oz ordered with a harsh glance over his shoulder at Xander.
"Whoa... hold the hostile, Oz-man," the teen returned as he held up his hand like he was surrendering to the police. "I'm not the one tossing friends across the park."
"No, you're just the idiot who invaded her space," Cordy responded as she snapped the back of her hand out to smack Xander's upper arm. Xander lowered his arms and rubbed at the reddening spot.
"Why am I the bad guy?" the confused teen whined as Anya elbowed him out of the way and shoved Giles towards the two crouched students.
No one answered Xander. Instead, Giles squatted in the grass beside Oz and offered his own quiet concern by addressing Buffy. A few minutes of the quiet tones finally prompted Buffy to raise her head. Tears had streaked in a continuous wash down her cheeks. The knees of her pants were soaked and her breathes hiccuped. Both Oz and Giles stood and offered the recovering teen their open hand to assist her to stand. Returning a watery and self-conscious smile to the two supportive males, Buffy placed her hands in each offering and allowed them to assist her to stand.
The bell for the end of lunch period rang across the emptied quad.
Giles turned to the gathered students and requested that they head to class. Anya and Cordy both nodded and turned to follow his directions. As she passed him, the former demon poked Xander hard in the arm and glared at him. She whispered a harsh warning to him to keep his hands to himself or he would be sorry before stomping back towards the school building. The teen cringed from the girl he feared might be a bit crazy and believed she would follow up on her threat.
Xander only took two steps towards the building before stopping. He turned back to the remaining trio.
"I still don't understand," he muttered.
Giles offered the confused young man a concerned moment of consideration.
"Perhaps now is not the best time to discuss this," Rupert proposed as he motioned the students towards the building in hopes of moving them out of the open quad and decreasing the likelihood of being discovered by the administration. He reached forward and rested his hand on Buffy's shoulder to offer support as well as a slight nudge of direction.
"But..." Xander whined as he refused to move from the grass.
Buffy sighed and pushed Giles' supporting hand off her shoulder.
"No, its fine. We might as well do this," she muttered with a choked voice. She ran her hands over the bottom of her shirt and pulled down the sleeves before lifting her chin. Buffy took a deep breath and the three males watched her rebuild her personal sense of calm. Hazel eyes centered on her confused and slightly injured friend.
Although his body ached, his head hurt worse. He was confused and his feelings were definitely bruised more than his behind was. For weeks, Xander had felt like Buffy was growing away from him. She never invited him on patrol anymore and she seemed to spend all her free time at school with Oz. If the teen was honest with himself, he would have admitted to his jealousy over his seeming replacement by the quiet musician. Not one to look too closely at his own motivations, Xander just knew that he didn't like the new addition. Granted, the teen was happy Buffy was hanging around with the musician instead of mooning over Angel like she did last spring. He just wished that Buffy would pay more attention to him. After all, they had been friends much longer.
"Xander, I am sorry if I hurt you," Buffy offered.
"Well, you pack a bit more punch than Larry," her friend accused.
"Well, yeah," Buffy snipped in return. "I have better fashion sense too."
Giles shook his head at the juvenile exchange but his tolerant smile turned into a frown as Buffy continued.
"Thing is, Xan, I didn't really mean to hurt you."
"So we're back to a why," Xander countered as he took a step towards his friend.
He stopped though when Buffy took a retreating step from him and she even shifted a bit so she was behind Giles slightly. Xander practically growled and rolled his eyes in frustration.
"That's what I mean," he groused as he waved at her new position. "Something is way wrong here. You're acting weird."
Buffy flinched.
"Not weird," Oz stressed quietly. "Cautious."
Xander glared at the shorter boy who stared back neutrally.
"What does she have to be cautious about. I'm one of her best friends. What? Does she think I'm gonna hurt her?"
Both Buffy and Giles flinched this time as Xander's voice raised until he was practically yelling.
"I think we should take this into the library," Giles prompted quietly.
"Why? Does Buff need time to come up with an excuse?"
"No, I don't," the teen answered with a hint of anger leaking into her voice. "But I do need you to stop yelling at me."
Xander shifted his stare from Oz to Buffy. This time, the girl did not flinch. If anything, she seemed to draw strength from somewhere and straightened more confidently.
"I don't really believe you can hurt me," she stated firmly. "That doesn't mean I want you touching me. It makes me uncomfortable."
Xander's eyes narrowed.
"Oz touches you sometimes," the teen accused before waving his hand towards the suit clad librarian. "Hell, Giles was just touching you. You're not tossing them across the table."
"Neither of them have ever tried to rape me," Buffy countered in such a harsh tone that Xander took an unconscious step backwards.
Horror crossed Xander's face for a moment.
"That wasn't me!" he cried in response. "That was the hyena possessing me. You can't blame me for it!"
"Why not?" Buffy answered back. "I slay vamps all the time and they were people possessed by a demon. I blame them for their actions... heck, I blame them for actions they haven't even done and dust them all the time."
Giles began to sputter. He wasn't sure he wanted Buffy pursuing the thought that vampires should not be dusted as soon as the rise. That could only lead to a bad place in his estimation.
"So now you plan to slay me?" Harris accused.
Buffy grit her teeth.
"No, but I do think you need to take some responsibility for your actions."
"I had no control," Xander stressed as Giles once more tried to quiet the conversation and offer a bit of support for Xander's position. Buffy just glared at the librarian quickly before turning back to her frustrated friend. Giles snapped shut his mouth. Buffy turned her displeasure back towards its current source.
"Moose Muffins," Buffy countered and all three males just stared in disbelief for a moment.
"You didn't try to force yourself on anyone else while all hyena-fied. You didn't target Willow. You didn't force yourself on Cordy. You didn't try to dominate Giles. You saved that for me. You liked me and you were influenced by the hyena but it was still your feelings underneath."
For a moment, Xander looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He glanced at Oz. There was no support there. He turned to Giles and remembered his previous excuse.
"I'm sorry Buffy, but I just don't really remember," he attempted.
Buffy shook her head.
"Doesn't matter," she replied. "I do."
Xander's shoulders dropped and his face fell. He looked a bit like a puppy who had been kicked by his favorite human.
"So how do we fix this?" he asked softly.
"You give me time. Time and space," Buffy replied before turning to Giles and asking if she could spend the next period in the library.
Nodding in agreement, the librarian shuffled Buffy towards the building. Xander watched her go without saying anything additional to her. He rubbed his rear end and rolled his neck to loosen his tightened shoulder muscles.
"Wonder how much time?" he muttered to himself.
"As long as she needs," Oz responded even though the question wasn't really posed to him.
"What do you know?" Xander jealously snipped.
Oz shook his head as he retrieved Anya and Buffy's lunch trays and dumped their forgotten lunches into the trashcan. He then grabbed Buffy's leather satchel and slung it over his shoulder.
"I know potential."
"Potential what?"
"With you? Potential problems."
"The only problem I see if you horning in where you don't belong."
Oz sighed.
"Blindness. Seems to be an affliction you suffer."
Xander clenched his fist and seriously contemplated punching the older guy in all his over dyed hair and nail polished fingertips glory.
Oz noticed the motion but didn't back down from the confrontation.
"Look, man, I don't really care what you think about me but you insist that Buffy's your bestest. If so, then treat her like it. Respect her needs and right now she needs you to back off."
Oz shook his head in frustration. He didn't understand why Harris didn't realize what was right in front of his eyes and plain to the rest of the world. Even Cordelia Chase, queen of look out for me, had realized that Buffy needed a bit more something from the folks around her. What the something was varied but it still came down to the same thing. She needed her friends to respect her needs and care enough to put them over their own wants.
"But..."
"Dude, you are male, you are bigger than her, and you have a history that can act as a trigger for a panic attack. You need to think about that before you go forcing yourself into her personal space."
A pinched expression settled on Xander's face and he crossed his arms over his chest.
"I think I know Buffy a bit better than you do," he informed Oz. "She never had a problem with me being this way."
The musician just shook his head as he turned to head into the school. Looking over his shoulder, he threw one last bit of information for the junior to consider.
"You knew the old Buffy. The pre-assaulted-and-dead-in-the-alley Buffy. This is a New Buffy. Why don't you get to know this one. Just do it from a few steps away to avoid the need for bodily harm. That is what the New Buffy needs. Time and more importantly... Space."
With that said, Oz stepped under the covered walkway and entered the school. He left behind the other teen.
In the quad, Xander frowned. He glanced around at the empty courtyard. The loneliness he had been feeling jabbed at him. Shoving aside his own feelings for a moment, the teen tried his best to consider everything he had just been told. He dropped onto the bench attached to the picnic table. For the first time, he tried to imagine the horrors Buffy faced in the darkness behind the diner. Harris shuddered and bend his chest down to rest against his legs. As he wrapped his arms around his lower legs, he thought about how scared and hurt the Slayer had to have been. She was a hero. She beat the bad guys with a grin and a bit of sass. She didn't belong shoved to the ground in the dirt and slime and abused like some helpless girl.
"Oh god," Xander muttered as it finally clicked. All this time, he had been thinking about how much he missed hanging around with the Slayer. He missed the excitement and purpose of helping with the mission of the Chosen One. He wanted to be part of saving the world however axillary his contribution may have been. The teen hadn't been considering anything beyond the Slayer's ability to fight back. No matter what the cost, he assumed that the Slayer was just going to get back up and go back to the fight. She was a superhero after all. That was what they did in his comics. They get beaten and they get back up and win.
Xander sighed as he toppled his hero from her pedestal and remembered she was a real girl underneath her Slayer costume.
"Buffy needs time and space," he stressed to himself as he lifted his head and smacked himself in the forehead for his lack of common sense. "Just like any other person would."
Xander shook his head and his shoulders slumped.
"I really do need to get to know Buffy better," he muttered to himself in disgust.
Buffy groaned as she slipped into her yard and moved towards the light illuminating the front porch. The teen shifted tenderly and rubbed her upper arm where she was sure that a huge bruise was already forming. She then pulled gently at the tear in her shirt to check and see if the claw mark on her side had stopped bleeding yet. The teen hissed as she touched the wound. She dabbed the ruined material against it again because it hadn't stopped bleeding and she was slowly leaking blood down to soak her jeans. The top was not salvageable but she hoped to save the pants.
The teen winced as she put pressure on her wound. While patrolling this evening, she had encountered three very power vampires that had given her quite a workout. Buffy shuddered and made a mental note to talk to Giles about them. She planned to revisit the raspberry flavored vampire theory again. These three had tasted or felt a lot like Darla and Luke. In fact, they were more like Luke than Darla. There had been a bit of a tainted edge to them as if they were not quite the same but close enough to give her concern. A bit like comparing a nectarine to a peach. They tasted so similar but one lacked the fuzzies. It was a strange puzzle.
On top of the possibly familial link, Buffy also shivered at the other weirdness involved. Two of the vampires had been ultra attractive. In fact, Buffy had suspected the matched pair of dark skinned, dark haired vampires could have easily been runway models if they could have avoided the inevitable mirrors associated with the job. On the other hand, the third vampire in the group had been about as far on the other side of the scale as a person could be. He had been so badly deformed that he could barely move. One leg was twisted and didn't move more than a straight peg would. Both his arms were twisted and ended in half limbs with nubs instead of proper hands. His face had been smashed on one side. Neither his ears or his eyes lined up. In fact, his face reminded the teen a bit of some of the art by Picasso she had seen in one of her mom's art history books. Nothing matched properly or were in the proper positions or proportions. It had been startling in his human guise and quite scary with his misshapen bumpies in place. She had never seen anything quite like it.
A step onto the porch stairs twinged a previously ignored pain in her foot which set the teen to grumbling to herself about a warm bath and hiding the evidence from her mother. She reached the door and felt a flash of happiness at discovering she didn't need to sneak into the house.
"Hmm, no one's home yet," she observed since the door was locked and only one light was on in the living room. She grinned a bit evilly.
"Wonder if Mom and Officer Friendly are having a nice date?" she muttered to herself as she moved stiffly into the illumination of the small porch light.
She reached into the pocket of her jeans and fished out her key. One moment, she was moving towards the keyhole and the next one, she was dropping the key. Buffy spun on her back leg even though it tweaked the pain in her foot slightly. By the time she was facing the front yard, she had replaced the dropped key with a sharply pointed stake.
Her eyes widened slightly as she recognized the vampire standing on her front walk with his hands up near his shoulders in a parody of a surrender.
"Hello, Cutie," Spike offered with a quirk of his lips.
*ok, so perhaps an evil place to stop but I can't help it... that is one of my favorite lines to shift to commercial... granted, my updates take longer than a commercial break but still, can't resist using it as a break - me*