Rebuilding
Ch 15 – Sunday Stresses
The rest of the weekend managed to go by relatively smoothly. Quentin Travers remained until Sunday night, causing Xander to spend far too much time with the Aprilbot who refused to answer to anything but Faith. She also tended to remind him and Spike at least every hour that she was 'The Vampire Slayer', which had him worried that she was out there accosting people on the street with her supposed identity. He was pretty sure that giving her an alternate identity was going to be a mistake on Will's part… the real Faith was not going to be amused.
In addition, Spike was unusually combative around the robot. Mostly this was verbal, but his jibes that 'Buffy is The Slayer, you're just a knock-off' made April growl and threaten him with bodily violence. Very much like Faith actually; at least Willow couldn't be accused of not doing an accurate job.
"I need to patrol," Faithbot argued.
"When Giles gets here and we know Quentin is out of town," Xander repeated again.
"The vampires aren't waiting for him to leave, why should I?"
"We need Willow to overhaul her programming," Spike muttered. "No need for her to act like the real bitch."
"Adam is still out there," Faithbot reminded the humans in her midst. "I'm supposed to be tracking him down for Willow Rosenberg."
"And you will," Xander sighed. "When Giles gets here."
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Andrew sat bored watching and listening to Xander and Spike argue with the robot. At least, in between his surfing the more risqué websites and looking at naked people. So far April or Faith or whatever the skank-bot was called now hadn't seen Buffy once. And Spike and Xander had discussed nothing remotely connected to the Trio. It was Dawn, Dawn, Dawn and men having their throats torn out… hello? Town full of vampires? How was any of this news?
Finally Mr. Giles, who Andrew had respected even when he'd just been the librarian, finally knocked on Xander's apartment door. Aprilbot, unfortunately, was finally able to leave, just when somebody with something to say arrived.
At this rate, we're never going to know what Buffy is doing, he whined to himself. And now I can't even watch Spike! There are some weird vibes going on between him and Xander. I wonder if they're doing it? Nah, that's stupid. God… I am getting punch-tired. Wonder if Warren will yell too much if I sack out for a nap for awhile….
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"Finally," Faithbot exclaimed. "Giles, will you please tell the vampire and Xander that they are not my Watchers and I don't have to listen to them. 'Cause I'm getting ready to kick some ass up in here."
"Er, I'm sure they had a reason for… uh… whatever," he said as the robot passed him.
"Whatever! I'm outta here. I'll report back to Willow when I've made a sweep of the town," she huffed as she left the apartment.
"She really does sound a lot like Faith," Giles said, as they all sat down.
"Which isn't working for me, anymore," Xander complained.
"I'm out of here as well," Spike said, putting on a different leather jacket than the one he used to where. The long coat hung in the closet but Spike had deflected Dawn's enquiry about why he didn't wear it anymore. "I'll look for evidence on this new vampire. I'm telling you, this M.O. is familiar. Haven't you found anything yet," he directed at Giles.
"It's been very difficult finding this specific wound pattern," he replied impatiently. "Since we're sure it's not a werewolf or other semi-animal attack, no, I haven't found anything yet. Although I'm wondering if anyone would bother to mention it… a vampire attack is a vampire attack."
"Not bloody detailed of the past Watchers," Spike muttered loudly as he marched toward the front door.
"Be careful," Xander said, but kept his distance. Spike had been avoiding any attempts at physical intimacy, afraid that it would encourage his alter ego to make another appearance.
"Tell him about Dawn," Spike said and then swept out of the apartment.
"Dawn," Giles sighed.
"Yeah. I'm afraid that we need the Buffybot to convince one more person," Xander commiserated. "On the other hand, we also have to deal with Buffy's headstone. The granite arrived and is in the crate on the veranda. I'm not looking forward to doing this, Giles. Dawn is finally getting settled."
"She needs to see this done, Xander," he said kindly. "We all need to see it in writing on a permanent surface. She's gone. And we haven't been back to the site since that night. It isn't right."
"I know. But every time we return to the burial plot, there's the chance of being spied on. Plus it's such a hazardous trek to get through there, I was kind of breathing a sigh of relief that Dawn hasn't asked to go back there."
"Which in itself, is unusual. I hope that she really is as alright as we think."
"You think she's faking it," Xander questioned, worried.
"Dawn is a strong girl… like her sister and her mother. But this has been an extremely traumatic several months of constant stressors. Her not mentioning returning to Buffy's burial site to place flowers or just to 'visit' seems odd to me," he said. "Of course, she hasn't really mentioned Joyce's gravesite either. Perhaps it's a side effect of the magic used to create her… to help her deal with emotions she wasn't meant to have."
"I-I hadn't thought about that," Xander admitted. "And now there's a new 'stressor' at school."
To Giles' questioning look, he provided the form letter about Dawn's truancy.
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It was after midnight when Giles left his own apartment after returning from Xander's earlier in the evening. He was dressed in dark jeans and a sweatshirt that usually he would pretend he didn't even own. His eyes were unusually dark and he strolled down the streets of Sunnydale without a care. Around him, the town was in deep sleep as even the jazz club had closed its doors at eleven-thirty.
Rupert walked directly toward the seedy end of town, but frowned in disappointment when he found the underground biker club closed as well. Sunnydale was far too sedate and boring when he wasn't looking for vampires to slay. The night life was non-existent. It was appalling and he missed London terribly.
Wandering aimlessly through back alleys and warehouse lots, he finally saw something that would save the evening from being a total loss. In one of the alleyways behind a furniture warehouse stood a woman of the evening looking to ply her trade. She was a red-head with far too much makeup and too tight clothing squeezing her generous proportions. She was a real tart-looking hag and Giles considered leaving her be, but he'd gone days without a good shag. With a shrug he approached the woman, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.
"How much," he said in a bored tone. She wasn't much to get excited over, especially this close where he could make out the dark shadows she was trying to hide with her under-eye foundation.
"Depends on what you're looking for," she said with equal boredom. "Full package is $160."
"In this neighborhood," Giles scoffed. "I'll give you eighty for straight copulation. There's an extra twenty five if you don't mind a few bruises."
The woman looked him over with a barely restrained hungry look but she only shrugged.
"Sure, whatever."
Slipping the money into her cool hand, he instructed her to face the wall. When she'd done as instructed, he began to hike up her jean skirt, but it was too tight. Annoyed, he attacked the zipper tab on the side of the skirt. He stopped suddenly when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck straighten. The woman's skin was far too cold, even for someone standing outside in her state of dress. Casually, he reached out and felt her neck, detecting no pulse.
Quickly taking two steps back, he watched her turn around. Her face morphed into that of the vampire; her eyes yellow and teeth a gleaming white in the alley light shining down from the roof of the nearby warehouse.
"Demonic bitch," he spat at her.
"What's the matter, baby. I thought you wanted it rough," she laughed as she stalked toward him.
Footsteps to his side caught his attention and a quick glance showed him two more vampires stalking toward him. They were both male and both dressed in dirty blue jeans, white T-shirts and leather jackets with studs.
"You catch something, Simone," one of them asked with a smirk.
"Do you like English food," she asked.
"It doesn't matter," Ripper interrupted their complete lack of sparkling wit. "You're all going to be dust within the next ten minutes."
As the vampires laughed at him, he summoned up the powers he had access to now. Pointing toward the harlot, he unleashed a stream of black lightning that had the demon dancing a jerky jig before she burst without a sound into ashes.
The two male vampires came to a halt, hissing and growling. Ripper smiled icily. With another incantation, he sent one of the vampire-men flying against the warehouse wall hard enough to hear a satisfying crack and a howl of pain. The other rushed toward him, but when he lifted his hand, it skidded to a stop unsure. It was a mistake; not that Giles had felt particularly threatened anyway. With a quick gesture a miniature fireball flew from his hand, instantly consuming the vampire and cutting off its scream.
The injured vampire had gotten to its feet during this and was now trying to race down the alleyway. Its arms were crossed over its chest and it was running hunched, telling Ripper he'd broken ribs. He gave a small laugh and another dark muttering caused the vampire to collapse in screeching pain as his fibula bones snapped.
"Oh, shit," the vampire yelled in pain. "Come on man… we weren't going to hurt you! It was just a little fun," he insisted as Ripper approached.
"Yes. Because vampires are a barrel of monkeys. You're all so well known for your jaunty sense of humor."
"Man! We didn't know you were a warlock, okay? Just… let me go. I'm sorry! Okay? It was that slut's idea!"
Giles smiled down at the vampire, who had shifted into his human face. He hadn't been a bad looking man… probably late twenties with a wiry build. If Giles was still with Ethan 'experimenting' he may have given the bloke a ride.
Instead he shook his head sadly, "I'd like to help you out. But I'm just having too much fun."
With a smile, Ripper released another incantation similar to the one which snapped the vampire's leg bones. He laughed in delight as the demon's jaw bones cracked sending the creature rolling in pain on the dirty ground. Next came more of the thing's ribs and then its larynx… his screaming was becoming an irritant. Finally, when Giles was feeling relieved of the stress he'd been hoping to expend on a woman for the night and the thing's spine had been snapped in three places, he reached slowly into his pocket for a stake. Opening the young man's jacket, he ripped the T-shirt and gazed down on the smooth white skin. Pressing the pointed wood against the chest of the thing, he ever so slowly forced it to break the skin, watching blood flow up and cover the torso.
The vampire was only barely conscious by this point which muted the pleasure Ripper received. Finally, after several long and suspenseful minutes, he reached the shrunken and atrophied muscle so important and watched as the vampire finally disintegrated away.
"You can thank Dawn for the amount of stress I needed to work off," he told the drifting ash. "I'm sure you understand."
He stood up with a large grin pasted on his face. As he looked casually around the empty alley he realized that his money had turned to ash with the hooker. "Well… damn."
He strolled out of the alley, still smiling. When he reached the apartment, he poured himself a large scotch and carried it with him to his bedroom. He slept like a baby that night.
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In the morning, Giles frowned at the empty glass of scotch sitting on his bed table. He hadn't recalled himself bringing such a drink to bed and he certainly should have remembered if he'd gotten up in the night for a capper.
Lifting the glass, he had the flash of memory of pouring it, but nothing more. With a frown, he brushed aside the question of why he couldn't recall clearly drinking it and carried the glass to the sink.
Starting water for tea and pouring a bowl of bran cereal, he concentrated on the coming day. He and the Buffy-robot had an appointment with Dawn's principle for four o'clock. He was irritated with the young girl for not concentrating on her school work and especially for her skipping out during the day. Joyce would be quite livid with the girl. And of course, it just added another complication to their attempts to get life back to as normal as they could manage with a robot pretending to be Buffy. In addition, he was going to take the robot to U.C. Sunnydale to officially drop Buffy from the school roster, as if they thought she was still attending. He planned on meeting Tara at her dorm room while there so that they could pack the last of her and Willow's things and bring them over to Dawn's house.
It was going to be quite the busy day. He was grateful that he'd managed to sleep so well last night, rather than be plagued by his disjointed and disturbing dreams. Now, if he could only explain the brandy glass by the bed sufficiently.
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End Chapter 15