Chapter 19

"Hmm, this is interesting." Chet ran his hand over a plaque on the wall. "There's an Executive Committee space."

"Well, it stands to reason, doesn't it?" Penny replied, trying to test the hallway for spells as unobtrusively as possible. "I mean, they take part in the management and rules making; even if the Watchers involved have other things to do, they probably want to keep Executive Committee topics behind closed doors." She blinked as she interpreted the mix of spells around her. "Bloody hell, those are really closed doors. Why are there so many spells on this area?"

Chet frowned. "Because we didn't form a new Executive Committee when we reconstituted the Council. Since there were so many fewer senior members, we went to a parliamentary model of management, rather than the old leadership by small committee model."

Penny blinked at him. "But, I get emails all the time from the Executive Committee. Who the hell's sending them?"

"I believe that's part of what we're here to find out. I'd bet you all the tea you can drink that whoever's been casting spells on Mr. Giles has been hired by the 'new Executive Committee', if they haven't just cast the spells themselves." Chet rolled up his sleeves. "I think we need to get into this section, don't you?"

Penny nodded, and without further conversation they got to work unravelling the spells on the hallway and door.

"Seriously, Spike, you should have seen it. There were spells on everything. On his papers, his shoes, his glasses. On the little eye pillow that was supposed to help relieve the headaches all the spells were giving him. It was super freaky."

William frowned at the phone, exchanging looks with Tommy. "Do you need us to come help, luv?" He asked.

Buffy smiled. "You're sweet, but unless you've both gotten a lot better with magic or medical knowledge since yesterday I doubt there's much you'll be able to do here. As soon as Daniel comes over to sit with Giles and monitor his condition, I'm going to join Willow and Amber over at HQ. Chet and Penny found some office for a Committee that isn't supposed to exist and they're having trouble getting in."

"They're breaking into a magically protected office?" Tommy asked. He knew enough to know that was not a common task or the kind of thing Penny would do if there wasn't a good reason. "Please be careful. And make sure Penny gets some carbs in her after she's done her spells. They burn a lot of energy, she'll need to top up."

"I'll make sure." Buffy agreed. "Willow was going to take the leftovers from Giles' breakfast with her, since there was this big basket of muffins on the table, but it turned out they had spells baked into them, so we had to put them down the garbage disposal."

Spike whistled through his teeth. "Spells baked into his food, jeez luv, that's a whole 'nother level. Are you sure he's going to be okay?" He didn't want to imagine what Buffy would feel if her Watcher died after she'd gone through all this trying to rescue him.

Buffy sighed, glancing over at the sleeping figure of her Watcher. "Willow thinks he was in pain when we broke the spells because they had them set up to recharge from his own magical energy. So the casting, maintaining, and breaking of each spell affected him. The breaking should have given him energy back, but then his thoughts and perceptions are all scrambled because a lot of them were affecting what he remembered, what he noticed, what he felt…" Buffy's words petered off as she took in Giles' grey complexion. "Willow thinks he'll recover, but it may take a while. We don't know how long this has been going on. It's possible they started messing with him when he came back to England after Glory."

"Willow thinks they've been altering his thoughts for three years?" Tommy couldn't even fathom that. The idea of trying to learn to trust your judgment again after someone messed with your head once was a lot. Having multiple years of altered memories and trying to reset your brain…

"You haven't caught anyone responsible yet?" William was really not comfortable with how this was going. Either Buffy was overwhelmed or something was messing with her. It sounded like she was allowing her enemy to reorganize themselves while she and her team fussed over the products of their machinations. Or, maybe he was just paranoid because if it came to a fight he couldn't back her up.

"Giles' chef was obviously in on it, but thankfully we got him tied up before he realized we suspected him. We think he was trying to fix our coffees with magic or poison or something. Alan, the assistant, probably knew something was up, if he wasn't causing it directly. Goldie's keeping him busy in a meeting he can't get out of until we find at least some of the others."

"Yeah, I'd say the assistant was definitely in on it if all those papers were bespelled. Are you sure he isn't going to notice anything is wrong in that meeting?" Tommy cut in.

Buffy chuckled, because this was one of the actually amusing things that had come out of today. "Even if he does, Alan literally can't get out of this meeting. Chet cast a spell that put him and Goldie in a bubble. No communication can get in or out, and the spell can last up to two days. They can't leave until Chet breaks them out or it wears off, and when they can get out it'll feel like they were only in there for 30 minutes."

"Huh, remind me never to piss off Mr. Freeman." William quipped. "Alright, luv, we're at our next stop, so I'll let you go. Text me if you need anything, and if you need us to come faster you call, right? This is nothing we can't reschedule."

Tommy snorted. Easy for Will to say they could reschedule their meetings when Tom had done all the scheduling.

"I need you to take care of what you need to do, and be there when I get back to the hotel after all this. I'm gonna be exhausted." Buffy sighed. "Love you, Spike. See you tonight."

"See you tonight, luv, be well." William flipped his phone closed and met Tommy's eyes. "Alright, mate. Are we ready to do this?"

"Ready to brave the passport agency?" Tommy smiled, trying to dispel their mutual anxiety for the women they loved, and moved to push the wheelchair. "Oh, we are so ready."

Goldie listened to Alan babble about how important he was to Mr. Giles, and how prestigious his appointment to this role was, and she wanted to strangle the little twerp. Thank the goddess that no matter how long she was in this room she'd only feel like it had been 30 minutes. Half an hour of this BS was far, far too long.

"I appreciate all that, Mr. Thomas, but I do need to get my appointment resolved. There are Slayers all over the world who need guidance, and I'm one of the last three people from my class without an assignment. It's insane that after eight months you haven't found anywhere to place me. And I'm not the only one who's concerned. My grandmother…"

"I understand that your grandmother used to be a very important personage within Council leadership, Ms. Westwood, but this isn't the old Council, and nepotism won't be tolerated."

"I'm not asking for special treatment, Mr. Thomas. I'm asking to be allowed to do the job you're paying me for." Goldie held in a sigh as Alan took off babbling again. Seriously, someone was going to get a mess of grief if she ended up having to stay in this room for the entire two days.

Willow picked at the threads of Magic remaining around the exterior walls of Council HQ, trying to parse out where they led to and if they were necessary. Chet had already disabled the alarms, or at least those which were easy to pick out, but her greater ability to pick out the intentions of spell craft made her the better candidate for this work.

She was already tired after the work she'd done on Giles' estate, and felt a swell of gratitude to Amber, who she was currently drawing energy from as she followed the purpose and origin of a ward carefully to its source. After several minutes Willow ended up grazing the mind of the caster. She was relieved that the woman wasn't very powerful, because she felt deeply, deeply malicious. She was also Sineyan. Using the link to Amber and the Slayer line she'd made through the Scythe, Willow released Amber and began to carefully draw power out of the woman. As she did, she tapped into her thoughts and gained a clearer picture of what was going on at the Council.

Even before the explosion, there had been dissension in the ranks. Those who thought Travers was too conservative and old fashioned warred with those who thought he wasn't controlling the Slayers and Potentials firmly enough. All the explosion that destroyed the old HQ had done was create a power vacuum which allowed the fringe groups to scrabble for power. Eventually, a coalition had formed in opposition to the New Council, made up of those at both extremes of the spectrum, and those who simply felt they'd been overlooked and should have been given more influence over things. They had appointed themselves the New Executive Committee, and had pooled their resources to take over the Council's operations from the inside, like a virus in the machine.

The woman she was currently drawing energy from, Maureen Weber, had been a not-particularly notable Potential, who then tried and failed to become a Field Watcher, eventually taking a specialization in Defensive Magicks and becoming part of the Council's Security Division, where she'd worked for over 30 years. She resented every woman who'd been called since she was 12, and had allowed that to color her entire life. She'd gleefully joined up with the Executive Committee to sabotage Council initiatives Giles had hoped to start, and to cast spells that put Giles under the group's control.

As Willow grew angry and drew energy from Maureen more deeply, the older woman realized what was going on and began gathering herself to fight back. Unfortunately for her, her magical energies were being drained through her Sineyan side, which she'd never learned to protect. As Willow broke through more and more spells and Maureen's energy waned, she made a mental note to speak with Gretchen, Althenea, and Chet about how to teach the magically-inclined Sineyans to protect their hybrid energies as well as their human-magical sides. That seemed like a distinctly necessary skill all of the sudden.

By the time Maureen lost consciousness and Willow felt the connection to her drop away, she'd also learned the names of three more of the conspirators. She opened her eyes and turned to Amber, "Where's Andrew?"

Andrew stuffed his phone into his back pocket and took a deep breath. He hadn't liked Braden Coote before, and he was liking him even less now that they knew he was part of the conspiracy to take over the Council of Watchers. However, this was his moment of truth. Would he be able to catch the villain unawares, bearding him in his lair and wresting the truth of his plans from him through cunning, or would be be forced to use violence and intimidation? Andrew straightened his spine. He'd grown as a person, despite maintaining what Daniel called 'an adorable flair for the dramatic', he could remain calm and use his words without engaging his 'storytelling mode'. He was sure of it. Then again, there was always his recently achieved brown belt in Judo.

He knocked on the office door. "Yes, come in." An arrogant, snooty accent filtered through the door. Andrew threw the door open as dramatically as possible, causing the two Watchers huddled behind the desk examining something on the computer monitor to startle and look up at him quickly. "Ahh, Mr. Wells." Braden cleared his throat, pushing his chair back. "Have you met Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?"

"Not in person, but I did meet the Cyborg copy." Andrew nodded at Wesley's father, wondering if he was going to have to worry about the older man being part of the Conspiracy.

"Come look at this, Mr. Wells. I'd be very interested in your opinion." Roger Wyndam-Pryce also stood, moving his side chair back from the desk, then reached to turn the monitor around so Andrew could see it. On the screen in front of him was a document. Andrew cautiously stepped forward so he could see the text more clearly. "I received this revised version of my Private Insurance contract in the mail last week. I was shocked to see how much the contribution amount had increased for retired employees."

Andrew relaxed minimally, though he tried to keep an eye on Braden while he formulated his answer. "Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, I assure you that increasing your contribution to your late-life insurance coverage costs in no way indicates that the Council lacks appreciation for your hard work over the years. We know how important it is that you be taken care of, and allowed to enjoy your retirement in ease and comfort." Okay, now the sales pitch. "While we acknowledge that costs are high, and not every Watcher can afford a large increase, the changes were made on a sliding scale based on your pension amount. You weren't charged any more than you can afford. The increases go to pay for coverage for all the new Slayers and Watchers who are going out into the field, where they face increased risk of injury, and won't be able to devote enough time to secondary employment to qualify for good health coverage…" Andrew was definitely warming to his subject, but he noticed Braden moving something shiny out of the corner of his eye, and struck out with a Judo chop as fast as he could. Unfortunately with a whole desk between them, it wasn't very fast.

Roger had also noticed Braden's movement, and happened to be closer. He grabbed the younger man's hand, and while Andrew's blow slowed but didn't stop Braden's movement, Roger's grasp was enough to deflect the blow of the knife Braden had been aiming at him. "What the hell is wrong with you, Coote? Put that knife down immediately!"

Braden staggered back, "Like hell, you old bastard. I've been listening to you and my father's friends my whole life, talking about how you'd run the Council if you had the chance. But you cowards were too scared to take the chance! You could've done whatever you wanted years ago…" Andrew took advantage of the other man's focus on Roger, and managed to get his arm wrapped around Braden's neck, cutting off his speech.

Braden tried to throw his shoulders back and knock him off balance, but Andrew was braced well. "Sir, can you get the knife? I can't risk my hold on him." Andrew tried not to gasp as Braden bent his knees, hoping to surprise him and throw him off.

"Fortunately, he dropped the knife when you grabbed him." The older man stooped and snatched the knife from the floor, and was just about to stand back up with it when Braden collapsed in his desk chair, rendered unconscious by Andrew's arm around his neck. "Oh, I say!"

"Thanks for your help." Andrew said, shaking out his arms, then starting to unfasten his belt. "He should be out for a while, but let me bind his arms just in case. You can put the knife on the desk, I guess."

Roger held onto the knife. Andrew felt a vague unease as the older Watcher stood over him, but he was fairly sure Roger was on their side. He was too proper to join a conspiracy to overthrow Council leadership, or at least Andrew hoped he was.

Once he'd wrapped Braden's arms in his belt and fastened it, Andrew straightened and faced Roger. "I came here to question him, but under the circumstances I think it may be best if I take him to a secure location."

"I'll come along." Roger declared, keeping hold of the knife, but picking up his trench coat and folding it over his arm so the weapon was hidden. He walked towards the office door, and in a moment of panic Andrew grabbed a paperweight and smashed it into the older man's temple. He could apologize to Roger later if he wasn't a conspirator.