Title: Buffy A Vampire Slayer
Author: Blue Chance
Disclaimer: All the Buffyverse is just a stage that Joss built, and I am merely a player with a word program.
Summary: Post BtVS "Chosen" and AtS "Not Fade Away": They saved the world again and again, you'd think they'd be allowed to rest… you'd think. A new take on the mythical Buffy season 8.
Author's Note: Hello! I have been hard at work at this story for quite a while now, and my brother has become my official accomplice in crime. There have been a lot of late night brainstorming sessions powered exclusively by profuse amounts of hot Earl Grey tea, which have resulted in a lot of breathtaking and exciting ideas. We're both looking very much forward to where this story is headed. Having said that, while a lot of this story has been plotted out and outlined, only a few chapters have actually been completely written. This means that updates may not be as frequent, because I will not be posting any chapter that hasn't been plotted, written, and polished. I hope it shows.
Thanks to typ-writer, Karen, and rhain572 for reviewing the last chapter. I appreciate the feedback as always and can only hope to not let you down! In answer to rhain572's question as to how long after season 7 this is: it's about a year after season 7 of Buffy, and about a little over a month since Angel season 5.
Now on to the story!
Buffy A Vampire Slayer
Season 8, Act III
"Trust Is A Two Way Mirror"
...
Westbury, England
"I specifically asked you to keep me informed of any change." Giles said in to the phone, not attempting to mask the irritation from his voice. "I think Buffy suddenly flying to LA qualifies."
"Buffy told me not to tell." Andrew's tinny voice came through the receiver. "She's like Yoda. She may be small, but she has power that transcends her size. Even without the lightsaber, you don't want to get on her bad side."
"Honestly, you have an air of ridiculous about you that still manages to astound me."
"Hey, if anyone has the right to be grumpy around here, it's me!" The younger man protested. "Buffy takes her sister on vacation to LA and leaves me here to slayersit a group of girls who can't tell a Romulan from a Vulcan. I only have so much patience."
Giles took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"That's perfectly good breath you're wasting, Andrew." He said, and then replaced the glasses on his face. "Now tell me, what did Buffy say before she left?"
"Not much." Andrew responded. "Girl's kind of big with the vague. Keeps things on a need to know. She just told us to wait and be ready."
"Ready?" Giles asked. "Ready for what?"
"I guess we didn't need to know."
"And she said nothing else?"
"Other than telling me not to drink all the diet coke while she's gone?" Andrew asked. "Not really."
Giles said nothing for a few moments, realizing that there was nothing more to find out than what Buffy had already told him. She was the only one who knew her exact motives for leaving in such a hurry, and for keeping it from him. But she had asked Andrew and the slayers to be ready. What did she know that she was keeping to herself?
"You never told her that Spike was alive, did you?" He asked.
"He asked me not to, but she probably knows now… being in LA and all."
"If she's seen him, she didn't mention it when I spoke to her."
"That doesn't mean she didn't see him. She's tight lipped, that one."
Giles frowned.
"Apparently."
Palos Verdes, California
Buffy sat with her legs pulled up to her chest just outside the reach of the water that kept rolling in and then out back to sea. The sun was just barely risen and the sky was still a soft blue, streaked with orange. It was beautiful, really. She'd seen a lot of beautiful things, having traveled all over Europe… having lived in the "eternal city", but nothing was quite this beautiful. The beauty of being home. She hadn't even known that she'd missed it this much.
She wasn't ready to talk to them about what she'd seen in her dream. Not yet.
…
"Hey, I noticed a lack of electricity last night, so I figured there probably wasn't much in the way of safely refrigerated food lying around." Xander said as he placed a pink box of doughnuts in the middle of the dining room table. Two brunettes and a redhead looked up at him from their respective pile of books.
"Ooh." Dawn said, grabbing a maple bar from the pink box. "I like Uncle Xander."
Xander pulled out a chair and sat down with the ladies.
"Any luck?" He asked.
"Sure, if you call…" Kennedy started, and then paused with a crease across her forehead. "You know what? It's too early for wit. We've had no luck."
"Was anyone able to get anything out of Buffy?"
"She didn't want to talk about it." Willow said, with characteristic concern plastered over her face. "But judging by the waking up screaming, I'm thinking it wasn't a fun dream."
"Where is she now?"
"Doing the lonely slayer thing." Kennedy responded, her eyes on the book in front of her.
"She needed some time." Dawn countered, shooting the other girl a defensive look. "She just… went out for some air."
Willow shut her book.
"Did anyone else notice Spike standing in the hallway last night?"
There was an overall shift in the room as everyone voiced their opinions at the same time. Dawn's voice rose above the rest after a few moments.
"I told you he was back." She said.
"Yeah, and that's all we need right now." Xander responded. Dawn looked at him.
"Spike died to save the world." She started, her face nearly just as defensive as when she had spoken of her sister moments before. "Maybe we can ease up on the hate a little bit."
Xander sighed.
"No, it's…" He shook his head, and paused for a moment. "It's good on the surface. He's one more person to help us keep on keeping on… but my gut feeling tells me that this isn't exactly a miracle."
"Have a doughnut." Dawn said. "Might help with the gut feeling."
"I know it's a hard concept to grasp, but I'm being serious."
"What?" Willow asked. "You think him being back has something to do with the big nothing?"
"Do I think one weird thing has something to do with another weird thing?" He shrugged. "Would that be lame and derivative?"
"He's right." Kennedy agreed. "And how to we know he's still good? How do we know anything?"
"We don't." Buffy said from the dining room entrance way. None of the others had noticed her walk up. "And we can sit here and think of the worst scenario where we've all been tricked in to coming here so that Angel and Spike can have us all in one place when they decide to turn on us… or we can try to accept the idea that we have two more people on our team who are willing to help, and who have—ooh, doughnuts?"
The blonde slayer walked in to the room and reached for a plain cake doughnut. The others only stared at her, identical looks of confusion on their faces.
"What?" She asked with a mouthful of doughnut.
"Well, you seem…" Xander started, but couldn't seem to find the word.
"Better." Willow finished for him.
"Are you okay?" Dawn asked.
"Why wouldn't I be okay?"
Dawn glanced around at the other faces before settling her gaze back over her sister.
"Woke up screaming… ring any bells?"
Buffy sat down next to her sister.
"A few." She answered. "But it's nothing we have to worry about right now."
"Implying that it's something we have to worry about later?" Xander asked.
"Implying that we have other things to worry about."
"Right," Kennedy said, slamming her book shut. "Getting back to the whole 'we might have been lured here as a trap' thing."
"That doesn't make any sense." Dawn said.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Kennedy responded, looking at her. "I must have missed the part where any of this does."
"Okay…" Willow started, slowly standing. The two younger girls looked up at her. "I get the tense, but I don't get the catty."
Dawn let out a short laugh as she stood as well.
"I don't understand why you guys are so quick to jump down Spike's throat."
"Whoa," Xander said, his hands out as a white flag. "No one's jumping down any part of Spike. We just—"
"He died for us." Dawn interrupted, and then cast her angry glare at Buffy who looked wholly unprepared for it. "For you."
Buffy was silent for a moment, seeming to regard her sister thoughtfully as the others in the room watched the two of them.
"Dawn, what is this?" She asked finally, and it didn't seem to be with anger or suspicion, but rather confusion and concern. "Where is this coming from?"
Dawn eyed her intensely for a moment, before rolling the blue orbs in an obvious act of frustration, and pushing past Willow and out of the dining room. Buffy stayed where she was, not turning to watch the girl go.
"Left field." Xander said, breaking the quiet. Buffy's eyes traveled to his face, wordlessly questioning him. "That's where it came from."
…
Spike sat cross-legged up against the headboard of the bed that Angel had made very clear was not his, but that he could use while the lot of them were holed up in this ambiguously acquired mansion. He'd inquire deeper in to that later, but for now he supposed it didn't matter much.
He stared quietly with an unlit cigarette between two fingers, staring out at the boarded up windows, bits of ghostly sunlight streaming in through the cracks. That was the one thing he missed about Wolfram and Hart - the ability to walk around in rooms and hallways filled with sunlight. He'd taken it for granted while he'd been there, never really stopping to feel the heat on the windows or the way things looked so much different during the day. He thought now that if he could go back, he'd appreciate it more… but then he thought, thank God he would never have to go back.
He felt her before he heard her or saw her.
The door creaked open.
"Spike?" Came Dawn's hesitant voice. Spike could see her step in to the darkness of the room and he knew she couldn't see him. She couldn't have known he was in here, and judging by her tentative and useless blind-eye sweep of the room – this was just one of the many she had tramped through in search of him. His dead heart almost seemed to swell at the thought that his girl had actually come looking for him, but he wouldn't let himself feel too much joy. Didn't know her motives, after all.
He briefly considered letting her walk out without alerting her to his presence as she turned to go, but curiosity got the better of him.
"Right here, Dawn." He said. She turned suddenly back around, startled.
Dawn. God, he'd called her Dawn again.
"Spike." She repeated, this time not as a question. She seemed suddenly uncomfortable in her own skin as her face shifted in to lines of confusion, her eyes scanning the darkness for him.
Spike was quiet for a moment as he tried to think of something appropriate to the situation to say, but nothing came to mind.
"How's Buffy?" He asked mindlessly.
"She's either fine or pretending to be." Dawn answered, stepping further in to the room, the lines having softened on her face. Her eyes were more than likely mostly adjusted to the small bit of light that leaked in to the room from the windows now. "You know Buffy."
He had the feeling, all in all, that the last added comment of hers was meant to sting him somehow. Which it did, so good on her. Truth was, and he knew this with a dull stabbing pain in his chest, that a year away from a person could do more to pull them apart than maybe even death could. Hell, his torch had burned brighter and hotter for Buffy that summer she'd been gone than it ever had before or ever did after… but this past year away from her, he'd gotten wholly used to the idea of, well, being away from her. The slayer had an uncanny popstar-like ability of reinventing herself every year, so he wondered if he'd know her at all now.
Didn't mean he didn't love her, of course. It didn't mean that at all.
Dawn was standing just at the foot of the bed now, staring Spike in the eyes. When did that happen?
"Right." Was all he could manage to say at first, and then, "And how about you-?"
The tail end of his question ended abruptly even to his own ears as he was about to call her by one of the many monikers he'd always referred to her as, but something stopped him.
"Why didn't you tell us?" She asked in an affectedly cool tone, ignoring his question in favor of asking her own.
He looked over her face, all hard and tense and full of so many emotions that he couldn't pick just one out. He didn't have an answer for her. His answer for Buffy didn't apply to the little sister, and it'd be cheating her out of her own place in his heart if he tried to use it on her, too.
"To be blunt," he started. "I didn't really see you rolling out the welcome mat for me."
"Buffy—"
"Not Buffy." He interrupted her. "I had a whole catalogue of reasons to keep myself hidden from her. All I had to do was turn the bloody page and point." He paused, watching her whole demeanor change and soften. "But you? You have this way of burning holes through my skin with your eyes, and I wasn't entirely up for it."
Dawn raised one eyebrow.
"You didn't tell me," She crossed her arms over her chest, and an amused, nearly mocking smile appeared over her face. "Because you didn't think I'd be happy about it?"
"Last time I'd come back from an extended stay elsewhere than your vicinity, you threatened to light me on fire."
Dawn's face changed again, amusement gone.
"That was different."
Spike didn't flinch or bat an eyelash. He knew it was different, knew how it was different, but he had stopped torturing himself over that little bit of memory some time ago. He'd done far worse, and he'd done far better, and his past was filled to the brim with years of things to regret and ruminate over. But not that. Not anymore. Buffy had forgiven him, and what's more, he'd forgiven himself. Never even cast a metaphorical glance in that direction of memory lane anymore.
"Yeah." He said, tilting his head. "I suppose it was."
"You hurt her." She said, but her tone was not accusing. "But no one ever thought about how much that hurt me."
True. Certainly, he never did. She went on.
"They all constantly told me I couldn't trust you. They said 'hanging out with Spike is gross and icky'—"
"Hey—"
"—But I always trusted you. I believed you loved Buffy, and I believed you loved me, and then you hurt her and then you left. It all broke my heart. How was I supposed to act when you came back?"
"No different than you did." Spike said without hesitation, quietly absorbing the idea that he'd been anywhere near deep enough in Dawn's heart to even dent it, let alone break it. Also, if he was being honest with himself, and he always was these days, he figured that the rest of Buffy's pack probably hadn't even trusted him after he got the soul back. He disinterestedly recalled a plot to have him killed and copious amounts of time being chained to walls or tied to chairs.
They probably didn't trust him now. Not him or Angel.
Which, really, the two vampires would probably have to have a conversation about in the near future.
A beat.
"I hated you almost until the end." The girl who was getting older and less "niblet"-like every moment, said.
"Almost?"
"Almost." She repeated pointedly, not clarifying what she meant by it. Spike smiled.
"Fair enough."
…
"Hey…" Willow said suddenly, her eyes wide and her expression weighted by a look of burgeoning knowledge. The others looked over to her, but she kept her eyes on the words in her book.
"What is it, Will?" Buffy asked.
"A book." The redhead answered.
"Yeah." Xander responded, waving his book momentarily in the air. "We have them, too."
Willow looked up at him at that with a look of weary irritation that appeared to be all she could do not to roll her eyes.
"No," She said, handing her book off to Buffy. "This paragraph," she said as she pointed to a paragraph that looked more like a whole page to Buffy as she looked it over. "It talks about a book of nothing."
Buffy scanned the words.
Buffy couldn't read the words.
"They don't actually speak Latin in Italy anymore." The blonde said as she turned the book back over to her friend. The witch gave her a vaguely apologetic look and then pointed back to the paragraph.
"It says 'Nahil Scriptum'." She said, then looked at everyone who merely looked at her in return. "Well, literally translated it means 'nothing writing'… but the words are capitalized. It's the name of something."
"And you think that something is a book?" Buffy asked. Willow nodded.
"Yeah," She answered. "And I think it's about the nothing."
"Not that I'm questioning your translating skills," Kennedy started. "But what makes you think that? I mean, a few sentences in a dusty old book and now—"
"We're sure there's another, albeit more important, dusty old book?" Xander interrupted.
Willow's eyes went back down to the page in front of her.
"Okay, so I'm not an expert in translation," She looked back up, her eyes knitted in a frown. "But I understand enough to know what this is saying."
"Well, great." Buffy said. "Where can we find this niquil script?"
"Nahil Scriptum." Willow corrected.
"Buffy's sounds good, too." Xander said. "I didn't sleep very well last night."
"It doesn't say where we can find it." Willow said, her eyes running over the words in front of her. "But this says that Nahil Scriptum speaks about 'nahil ad finem nahil'."
"What does it mean?" Buffy asked.
Willow paused rather dramatically for 8 o'clock in the morning.
"The nothing to end all nothing."
…
"I'm not surprised." Giles' voice came from the phone. "Dana's visions have all but confirmed what you're telling me now."
"We need to find this book, Giles. Ever heard of it?"
"I have heard of a book that talks about nothing, but I've never seen it and I have no clue as to where it can be found. To be quite honest, the idea of reading about nothing never quite piqued my interest."
Buffy took a deep breath.
"Typical." She said. "It's all we have to go on and, of course, we don't even have it."
"Give me some time." Giles responded. "If it really exists, I'll locate it."
Silence.
"Buffy, is everything all right?"
The girl paused before answering.
"Spike's alive." She answered, and the words almost seemed strange to her as she was not even completely aware she had been thinking about Spike.
"Yes, I know."
Those words were more strange.
"Know?" She asked. "You know? Is there another definition for 'know' that I've never heard, because—"
"I've known since Andrew came back from LA with Dana."
"Andrew knew?" Buffy exclaimed. "Andrew knew and didn't tell me?"
"From what I understand, Spike had expressed a wish that you not be told."
Buffy was struck silent for a few moments.
"And you decided to suddenly start honoring his wishes?" She asked. "What is it with everyone loving Spike so much lately?"
"Quite frankly, it wasn't my business."
"Fine. It wasn't your business. It wasn't his place." Buffy let out a short breath that was something of an annoyed and truncated laugh. "You know, I really wish someone would start telling me what this is, instead of what it isn't."
"Honestly, I should think there are other more pressing matters for your focus to lay at the moment. Spike being back—"
"Means something." Buffy interrupted. "It could be bad just as much as it could be good. This shouldn't have been kept from me."
"You're right." Giles conceded a little abruptly. "We shouldn't have kept this from you, but now that you know, what are you going to do with the knowledge? Sit around and bemoan the fact that you hadn't known all along, or move forward and figure out how to use this to your advantage?"
"Spike's not a pawn on a chess board." Buffy responded, feeling something not unlike indignation.
"Maybe not." Giles agreed. "But you are right. Him being back does mean something."
A pause.
"I wish I knew what."
"I wouldn't devote too much of my energy to the question just now if I were you. I don't believe we have anything to suspect of Angel or Spike, at least for the time being. All signs indicate that they haven't lied to you…"
"I just…" She took a deep breath. "I brought them all here, Giles. My friends, my sister. Kennedy."
"If it's certainty you want, Buffy… I can't give you any. I can only say that I have, many times, marveled at the wisdom and foresight you have always seemed to possess that are very clearly beyond your years. If you felt that going to LA was the right course of action, I have no doubt that it was so."
Buffy closed her eyes and let her breath out, not having known that she was holding it. That was something Giles might have said to her when she was sixteen, but it had been a very long time since he had spoken to her that way. She briefly wondered if maybe now would be a good time to tell him about her dream.
"Giles…" She started, but did not go on.
"Yes?" The man asked.
If she told him now, he would only worry. It wasn't like her dream had given her any relevant insight in to what was happening to them now.
Not really.
Or maybe, and she couldn't deny this to herself, it was more important than she was willing to voice out loud.
"Nothing." She said. "Just let me know as soon as you find anything out about that book."
…
Xander found Willow looking out from a window in the back of the house. He walked slowly up to her so as not to startle her, and came to stand at her side.
"Home." She said quietly to her friend.
Xander nodded.
"Well, as much as anything could be home without resembling a large impact site."
Willow leaned her head up against the glass.
"Did you miss it?" She asked. Xander looked out as well and thought about his answer. Did he miss it? Well, not in the sense of ever wanting to go back… but in the sense of knowing he'd never be able to go back, yeah, he guessed he did.
Mostly, he missed people. Not places.
"Did you?" He asked, deciding he didn't have an uncomplicated answer for her. She looked at him, and then toward the direction of the dining room where Kennedy still sat reading. Or maybe sleeping on top of a heap of books by now.
Willow looked back at Xander.
"I miss Tara." She answered, then returned her gaze to the expanse outside the window. Now, Xander had been quite aware of what had been between Willow and Tara. It had been as true a love as had ever been witnessed with his two eyes – when he still had two – and he never would have believed that Willow would stop thinking about the late witch… but he had not expected this answer from her at all. He said nothing.
"I only visited her once." Willow continued. "Then there was nothing to visit."
She had said this in a wistful, absent sort of way, but after the words had come, Xander could see out of the corner of his eye as she looked suddenly to him. He merely stared out from the window.
"Xander…" She said. "I'm sorry. I… I didn't—"
Xander didn't look at her.
"It's okay, Will." He said quietly, feeling the emotion rise in his throat. The fact that lay between them, which would not be mentioned aloud, was that he had never had the chance to visit Anya before "there was nothing left to visit". He'd never even seen her body.
"No, I'm all foot-in-the-mouthy…" She said in a voice laden with penitent sadness.
"I know I'm not the only one who's lost…" He trailed off, searching for the right words, but none would come. "Who's lost." He finished.
Willow said nothing else.
"I sense strong emotion." Came a cold voice from a few feet away.
The two friends turned toward the owner, startled.
"Is there something wrong?" It asked.
"What are you supposed to be?" Xander posed his own question, looking over the blue and crimson adorned woman who stood before them. She turned her head to him in an unnaturally jerky motion. Her ethereal blue eyes settled over his face.
"Do not address me as though you have the right." She nearly spat at him. "I am older than your written word."
Xander stared dumbfounded, then looked at Willow who was still, of course, staring at the strange woman.
"So, what are we thinking?" He asked his friend with a clasp of his hand. She looked at him, her eyebrows knit in a confused and worried frown. "Trap?"
…
Angel awoke to a loud crashing noise.
"What—"
It took him only a moment to register that he could no longer speak because Buffy had him pinned down by the neck, and that the crashing noise had been her kicking through his door.
"What are you playing at?" She asked him from behind clenched teeth.
The vampire pushed the slayer roughly off of him, and she flew across the room and against the wall. She was up the next instant, but so was he.
"What the hell is this?" He asked, his hand to his neck.
"Who is Old Blue Eyes downstairs?"
Angel looked suddenly very put out.
"What did you do to her?" He asked warily.
"Do?" She asked with an affected shrug. "Nothing that a couple days of unconsciousness wont heal."
"Dammit, Buffy!" He said, then almost immediately calmed. "She's on our side."
"And who's side is that?" She asked. "You ask me to come halfway around the world and don't bother to mention that you're harboring she-demons who have the habit of threatening to eviscerate men who 'dare address her'?"
Angel rubbed the bridge of his nose, then looked at Buffy.
"Her name's Illyria." He said. "She's the God who helped us fight Wolfram and Hart in the alleyway."
Buffy's stance immediately went from fight mode to relaxed, though her facial expression remained angry and mistrustful.
"Why didn't you tell me she had access to this house?"
"I honestly…" He sighed. "Didn't think about it."
Buffy laughed, a shallow and annoyed sound.
"Wow, you vampires are just full of things you don't feel the need to tell me."
"I would have told you."
"How can you expect me, or any of us, to trust you if you don't tell us everything."
"It's a little late for you to be voicing trust issues, don't you think?"
"Buffy…" Willow's voice came from the doorway. Buffy turned to her. The redhead held out her phone to her. "It's Giles."
Buffy gave Angel a long look before taking her phone and heading out in to the hallway.
…
"Give me some good news." Buffy said in to the device, Willow making her way back down to the others.
"I know where the book is." Came Giles' voice. Buffy felt a wave of relief flood through her.
"It's been almost three hours," She said with a satisfied smile. "You're losing your touch."
"It's the languid air of England." He responded, playing along for a moment. "The book is in California."
"And the good news keeps coming."
"But it's not readily accessible to the public."
"That's less good news." She said, slumping against the wall. "So, what are we talking? Full slayer arsenal?"
"Well, no." The English man said. "It's kept in a collection at the Huntington Library in Pasadena."
Buffy furrowed her forehead.
"Okay." She said. "I'll sign up for a library card, and problem solved."
"It's not that sort of library, I'm afraid. It's a museum. You'll need to apply for a reader's card with a mission statement and letters of recommendation."
"Letters of recommendation?"
"Well, the people who apply for these cards are usually writing books or studying for their doctorates."
"I'm really not either of those things."
"No, and I don't imagine the application process will be easy to fake."
"Your good news is starting to look suspiciously like bad news."
"We know where the book is," Giles started. "That is something."
Buffy took a deep breath.
"How did you find out?"
"I contacted a few colleagues of mine."
"Ah, the librarian grapevine."
"Yes, well, more or less, I suppose."
"We have to figure out how to get me in there." Buffy said, with a shake of her head.
"Who says it has to be you?" Spike asked from the other end of the hallway. Buffy eyed him dubiously.
"Who is that?" Giles asked.
"Giles, I'll call you back." She said, hanging up on her former watcher.
"You heard what we were talking about?" She asked Spike.
"Something about a book we need and letters of recommendation we apparently don't have." He tilted his head. "Doesn't take a genius to put two and two together."
"It's at The Huntington." Came Angel's voice from the doorway of his room.
"Yeah," Spike said. "Figured as much."
Buffy looked from one to other suspiciously and then held out her hands.
"Okay, wait." She said, shaking her head. "Putting aside the fact that you two pieced that together from literally nothing…" She visibly forced herself to assume a less defensive pose. "What makes you think you can get in there?"
"Vampire." The two dead men said in near unison. Buffy all but rolled her eyes, as she sauntered off down the hallway.
…
Angel made it to the parlour in time to see Xander stand up from having tied an incoherent looking Illyria to a wooden chair. He gestured angrily at the scene to Buffy who was standing against the far wall of the room.
"You tied her up?" He asked incredulously. Buffy shrugged.
"What can I say?" She asked. "That's what we do to demons who attack us."
"No," Xander corrected, turning his distrustful gaze fully on the vampire. "That's what we do to our friends who attack us. We usually just kill the demons. This one got lucky."
"She's not a— where did you get the rope?"
"Weapons chest." Buffy responded plainly.
Angel swept his hand over his face, and approached Buffy.
"She may not look like it," he started, gesturing back toward the blue god. "But she's got a lot of power, and she's not going to be happy about this when she wakes up."
"You told me she used all of her power to send the army of darkness back from whence they came."
"That was a month ago." Angel said as though speaking to someone less intelligent than himself. "By now she's recovered enough at least to the point of being able to incapacitate one or two of your friends."
"Hence the tying her up."
"You can't just go around tying up my friends." Angel protested.
"Dawn," Buffy said, peering past Angel to her sister who was just about to prod the tied up woman in question. "Don't poke at the god. Apparently she's good at incapacitating."
The slayer looked back at Angel.
"This isn't why I brought you here." Angel said with a clenched jaw. Buffy crossed her arms.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"For protection."
"What are you, The Godfather? I don't need your protection. I can take care of myself." Buffy said, and then tried to walk past him. He stepped in her way.
"No you can't." He said in a low voice. "Not against what's coming."
Buffy threw up her hands in frustration.
"I don't know what's coming!" She said. "For all I know you're playing for the other side again, and I am just the biggest idiot of the year for bringing everyone I care about here."
Angel looked suddenly and sincerely hurt.
"If that's what you think," he started. "Maybe you should just leave."
It took a few moments, but Buffy felt her anger recede and the hardness in her face melt away. She took a deep breath as she stared her ex-boyfriend in the eyes.
"No…" She said, conceding. "I… I didn't mean that. Look, I just—"
"No, it's good." Angel interrupted her. "You should question everything." He paused. "But you should also recognize when an old friend is trying to help you."
Buffy was still for a moment, and then she nodded. She was by no means completely convinced as to Angel or Spike's motives, but for now she would take Giles' advice and not worry about it. What she knew for sure was that they needed a book, and that the two vampires could help her get it. She also knew it wasn't safe for her to travel alone, that there was some sort of bounty on her head. Whether or not she was safer with them at her side remained to be seen, but she had very little choice in the matter.
"Okay." She said. "We'll need to get that book as soon as possible."
"How's tonight?"
"That's what I was hoping you would say."
Angel gave a short nod, and began to walk away, before turning briefly back to Buffy.
"My advice?" He said, glancing toward Illyria. "Tie her to a stronger chair. She's going to wake up angry."
…
Spike stood in his room, his hand outstretched toward the wooden boards over the window, though he didn't quite touch it.
"About an hour until sunset." Angel said, standing behind him. Spike didn't turn. "Ready for this?"
Spike laughed a little and inclined his head toward Angel but kept his body facing the window, dropping his hand to his side.
"Somehow I don't think nicking a book is going to be my finest or most daring hour."
"Oh, you never know, Spike." The brunette vampire said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "There's an army of vampires out there ready to take our heads off."
Spike turned to Angel.
"Noobies." He said on a sigh. "Refer to previous statement."
Angel laughed.
"What?" Spike asked, irritated.
"Working with Buffy again really has your cage rattled, doesn't it?"
Spike scoffed.
"Well, if it isn't Edward calling the diamond sparkly."
"Did you just make a twilight reference?"
"Well, if the poof fits—"
"All right, children." Buffy said from the doorway. The two men turned to her who held a weapon in each hand. "Time to gear up."
…
"Did she tell you?" Dana asked after Giles had walked in to his study. He turned suddenly toward the chair that sat in front of a very lit fireplace – one in which he did not light – to see Dana sitting and playing idly with the seam of her armrest.
"Dana, it's…" He looked at his wristwatch. "Three thirty in the morning."
"Did she tell you?" The girl repeated her question.
Giles began walking toward her slowly.
"Did you have another vision?"
"Did she tell you?" She asked again, neither the inflection nor the tone of her voice changing at all.
Giles sat in his usual chair across from her.
"Tell me what?" He asked in a low voice.
"That she's going to die."
Giles swallowed.
"No." He answered. "She doesn't believe there is anything to worry about, and I've learned to trust her judgement."
Dana continued to fiddle idly with the seam on the arm of her chair, seeming very distant from the conversation.
"Why?" She asked.
Giles had not been at all prepared for that question.
"She's proved herself—"
"She thinks with her heart no matter how hard she tries to think with her head. She's protecting someone."
Giles leaned forward, his previous words dead on his tongue.
"Protecting someone?" He asked. "Protecting whom?"
Dana looked up at him and smiled.
"The one that will kill her."
…
TBC