The doors to the library slammed open,
crashing back against the wall with a loud bang. Sonya and Giles
looked up and were astonished to see Xander walk in, carrying an
unconscious Buffy in his arms.
"What happened?" Sonya demanded,
pushing her wheelchair away from the reading table and moving
closer to Xander's side.
"She was attacked by a vampire named
Linus that I'd tracked all the way to the Bronze," Xander
explained, a note of sadness in his voice. "He tried to put
the bite on her but I got there in time to stop him. She went
into shock right after it happened and then she just passed out
cold."
As he was talking, Xander carried Buffy's
still form over to the cot that Giles kept in the back of the
library and gently laid her down, covering her up with a thick
blanket to keep her from getting too cold. Looking back up at
Giles and Sonya, he added, "I had no clue as to where she
lived, so I decided to bring her here. Sonya, could you look up
her address on the school's database for me?"
The wheelchair-bound slayer nodded, moving
over to the computer terminal and flipping it on. "I'll have
that address for you in a flash, Xand."
While she was looking up Buffy's
information on the computer, with Giles watching carefully over
her shoulder, Xander kneeled next to Buffy and gently brushed her
golden hair out of her eyes. His eyes landed on a bruise that was
forming on her cheek and he sighed, lightly running the pad of
his thumb across it. "I had hoped that you would be spared
from all of this, Buffy. That's why I didn't ask you out on a
date, even though I wanted to so badly. I thought that if I could
just keep you away from me, that none of the darkness would be
able to touch you." He continued to caress her cheek as he
spoke in a soft whisper. "I guess that plan's moot now. But
I swear to you that I'll do everything in my power to keep
anything like this from happening to you again, Buffy." His
gaze became deadly serious as he repeated his vow once again.
"I swear it."
Just then, the Buffy's eyes began to
flutter open...
Part Six
Buffy moaned. Her head hurt. And so did her
whole body. She opened her eyes and saw a male form leaning over
her. For a minute it looked like Bobby. It was the day of the
accident all over again. Her legs became a searing mass of agony.
"No," Buffy said over and over
again, "no, no, no ... not this time!" She sat up
quickly and threw the blanket off of her. She had to see her
legs! She ran her fingers along them from ankle to the hem of her
dress. The white tights had been torn. Angry, red, puffy scars
were visible. But scars meant healing, and that meant that Buffy
was fine. She took several deep breaths and gradually calmed
down. Then she looked up at the boy and Bobby became Xander. She
blushed a dark red. He wouldn't understand her reaction, and she
didn't want to talk about the accident. Not now. She was trying
to leave all that behind.
Buffy pulled the blanket back up over her
legs -- the pain had subsided once she figured out when she
really was -- and tried to smile. It was shaky. And so was her
voice.
"What happened?" she asked
Xander. His face, especially his eyes, was incredibly sad. Buffy
raised her hand a little, wanting to touch his face. Her eyes
focused on her hand. Two nails had been roughly broken off and a
cuticle was torn and bleeding. Her face felt sore, as did her
body.
Then it slowly began coming back -- Linus
the vampire, his invincibility and then Xander saving her. Xander
knowing how to kill a vampire.
"Oh..." Her voice was barely more
than a whisper. "That really happened didn't it?" From
Xander's eyes she could tell it had. Part of Buffy was
bewildered, but the other part of Buffy felt like the world was
finally making sense. Somehow her subconscious had known of these
horrors long before the rest of her mind. The world seemed new
and different and more terrifying, but it was all understandable.
She looked Xander square in the eyes and
said, "You have to tell me everything. How did you know
about those creatures? Where did they come from? Who else knows?
In fact, why doesn't everyone know? Shouldn't the police
department or somebody have a force to deploy to exterminate
these creatures?"
Giles pretended to watch Sonya search
through the school's database for Miss Summers' records, but
really his attention was on the girl and Xander. Xander couldn't
afford to be distracted, not at this crucial juncture. Every
minute that slipped away without them finding a spell to reverse
Sonya's paralysis brought them closer to the Council's deadline.
And if Xander allowed himself to make even one mistake, the
Council would be onto them like butter on a scone. And, worse,
Xander would probably be dead.
The Watcher noticed the girl's reaction
when she regained consciousness, and was impressed in spite of
himself. Most of the population of Sunnydale were adept at
fooling themselves. Gang members on PCP was the most frequent
lie. Their puny brains just couldn't handle the concept of
something they couldn't control or explain by science. Miss
Summers was a bit agitated, but she seemed to be taking it in
stride instead of lying to herself.
A whistle sounded from his office, and
Giles went in to find the water he'd set to boil ready for a tea
bag. But instead of making a cup of Earl Grey for himself, he
mixed up a cup and diluted it with lemon and sugar the way
Americans seemed to like it, and took it to Miss Summers. She
would need the calming warmth of something in her stomach much
more than he. He got there just in time to hear her last barrage
of questions.
"Here you are, Miss Summers," he
said, handing her the cup of tea. "Drink a little and you'll
feel better."
She obediently sipped the beverage,
frowning a little at the taste, but not saying anything but a
quiet thank you.
Giles reached into his pocket and pulled
out two items. He laid them on the bed next to her. "These
should help protect you if you get attacked again."
He pointed to the cross. "This will
cause any vampire pain enough to cower back." He pointed to
the stake, "And this, through the heart, is lethal. But you
can't tell anyone of what you have seen tonight."
Belligerence became evident on her face.
"Why not? Everyone needs to know about this! If not, they'll
be like mice in a trap."
"Perhaps, perhaps not, Miss
Summers." Giles sighed. "We're doing the best we can
here, and overall we're succeeding pretty well."
"You can't be everywhere at
once!" she protested vehemently.
Giles nodded. "True enough, but this
is the way it has to be done, as well as the way it's always been
done. Most of the people in this town could not handle the
truth."
"That's bull!" Anger flashed in
her eyes, bespeaking an inner strength belied by her beauty.
"If I can handle it, anyone can."
"No, that's not true." His voice
was firm, yet not raised in anger. "The people of Sunnydale
have had ample opportunity to see the truth. They choose not to,
so we battle the forces of darkness ourselves. And isn't it
better for them not to know and to be able to enjoy their
lives?"
She didn't say anything, but he could tell
she didn't believe him. He continued, "Now then, as soon as
you've finished your tea, Xander will escort you home."
"I don't want to go home," she
exclaimed. "I want to find the answers!"
"None of us here," Giles looked
significantly at Xander, "are at liberty to divulge our
secrets. We saved you -- rather, Xander saved you. The best way
for you to repay that debt is for you to leave and pretend
tonight never happened."
He could see she was still ready to argue,
but suddenly the silent atmosphere of the library was interrupted
by the phone's shrill ringing. Giles gave both Xander and Miss
Summers one more intense, stern glance and then headed for his
office to answer the phone.
"Hello?" he said into the black
receiver.
"It's me." The voice on the other
end was familiar, despite the obscuring static from an overseas
call.
"Angel," Giles said, relief
evident in his voice. Angel, the vampire cursed with a human
soul, was one of their best warriors. When he was in Sunnydale,
he patrolled even better than Xander, but only because of Angel's
super-human strength. Xander had a bit more ingenuity than the
vampire, but then, being a normal human and not a slayer, he had
to. Between the pair of men, Sunnydale was all the safer. Angel
and Sonya had had words at first, but finally the vampire
convinced them of his loyalty to the side of good, even though
Angel and Sonya never had gotten along. And after the accident,
Giles was glad enough for the vampire's help. Angel could get
away easier than any of the rest of them, and for this mission,
Giles couldn't use his regular contacts in the Council. There was
only one person in England whom Giles could trust with a secret
of this magnitude -- the rest of the Council had to be kept in
the dark, or Sonya's life would be forfeit. So Angel had gone to
England on the first overnight flight they could find. It had
been a challenge, but somehow they'd found a way to do it with
out getting Angel killed by the sun's rays. "How are things
there? Did you find anything?"
Angel's voice wasn't happy. "I've
scoured the magic stores here. They are some of the oldest in
Europe. No one knows of the kind of spell we need. They say it
never existed. I'm going to try and get into the Council's
headquarters tomorrow night. And if I end up with nothing there,
I can try France or Italy."
"If any such spell exists, it will be
in the Council archives," Giles said with a confidence he
did not feel. "You still have my keys, and my copies of the
building plans and alarm codes, don't you? Oh, yes, and the
amulet to get past the anti-vampire ward spell around the
compound?"
"Yes, things should go fine. Unless
your contact decides not to invite me in."
"He'll come through for us,"
Giles assured him. "I talked to him this morning. He's
expecting your arrival."
"I'll call tomorrow to let you know
how it goes," Angel promised. "How are things
there?"
Giles glanced through his office window at
Xander and Buffy still sitting on the cot, talking. "We've
had an unforeseen occurrence. But nothing supernatural. We'll be
able to handle it."
"Any activity on the Willow or Spike
fronts?"
"None so far. I'm sure they'll
re-surface again soon. Just when we don't need them."
Giles could hear the ironic smile on
Angel's face through the phone wires. "Of course, that's
what the love birds like to do best."
"Oh, Angel..." Giles hesitated,
unsure whether to take the vampire into his confidence about
their three month deadline. Was there anything Angel could do to
stop it? He decided not to mention the problem. Perhaps another
solution would present itself, especially if Angel was able to
find the desired spell.
"Yes, Giles?" Angel asked.
"I've got to get off of this pay phone soon ... I'm running
out of change and I've got to get back to the hostel before
sunrise."
Giles made a decision. He wouldn't tell
Angel, but if the vampire happened to find out while searching
for needed information that would be all right.
"While you're there, look up Sonya in
their records. See what they know and if they suspect anything is
amiss." The Council wouldn't tell Giles more than they
thought he needed to know, and what they thought he needed to
know just wasn't enough.
"Will do," Angel replied. Then he
hung up.
Giles placed the receiver back in the
cradle, and walked back over to Sonya. She was staring at Xander
and the girl, and there was something about her eyes. "Is
everything all right?"
Sonya looked up at Giles and smiled a
somewhat strained smile. "I'm fine, Giles. Just a little
tired, that's all." Glancing over at where Buffy was now
awake and talking to Xander, Sonya added, "Since she's
conscious again, I'm guessing that we don't need me to look up
her address anymore. So I'm gonna shut down the computer and head
home, okay?"
"That would be fine," Giles
muttered distractedly, his eyes still on Xander and the girl.
Then the words she had said sunk in and he looked down at Sonya.
She looked tired, purple circles decorated the skin beneath her
eyes, and her face drooped sadly. He realized that with all his
preoccupation $b#about$/b# the injured Slayer, he hadn't paid
much attention $b#to$/b# the Slayer lately.
"No," he said, touching her
shoulder and moving so that he stood between her and her view of
the cot. "Tell me what's wrong."
Sonya shrugged off the comforting hand that
Giles had placed on her shoulder and looked straight into his
eyes. In a strained voice, she replied, "I don't need a
babysitter, Giles. And I don't need you pretending to be the
father-figure that I never had, so give it up." As Sonya
spoke, her eyes grew cold and hard. "I managed just fine
without your pity and sympathy before and I will continue to do
so in the future. Don't you get it yet? You're my Watcher, Giles,
but you're not my father and you're not my friend, as much as you
might like things to be different. So deal with it and move on,
already!"
In the darkness outside the library, Spike
lurked. There was a certain window that if you cracked it open
just a bit, you could hear almost everything that the whitehats
were talking about. And tonight there was a new girlie in the
mix. It was almost worth losing Linus on his inaugural kill to
find out about this beauty. And now the beauty was cozying up to
Xander, the pseudo-Slayer.
But the big question still wasn't answered.
Where was Angel? After Angel had killed Dru -- the thought still
made Spike livid -- Spike had vowed vengeance. Even after six
months of Willow's loving embraces, the blond vampire still raged
against his sire. Angel would pay, and Spike would be the one to
make him!
There was a phone call, but try as he
might, Spike couldn't hear what went on. The vampire was willing
to bet his last shilling, or his last quart of stolen blood, that
it was Angel on the other end of the line. But there was no way
to find out where the whitehats had taken, or sent, him.
Spike's eyes again fastened on the
pseudo-Slayer and his new girlie. Willow would love to hear about
this. Then he left, heading for the factory and his lady of the
evening.
After the librarian left to answer the
phone, Buffy looked up at Xander. "Please tell me what's
going on! I know he doesn't want you to, but I swear I won't tell
anyone. I need to know. I need to at least be able to keep myself
and my mother safe, even if you guys won't let me help
you..." Something else crossed her mind, and she blurted it
out, too. "And if he makes you keep secrets from me I'm
afraid I'll never see you again."
Xander held up a hand, silencing Buffy's
diatribe. Then he took a deep breath and said, "Maybe it's
best if you DON'T see me again, Buffy." He felt his heart
break at each word, but he forced himself to say it, knowing that
it was for the best. If he let Buffy into his life, she would be
in danger from Spike, Willow and the other vampires, and Xander
wasn't about to let that happen to her.
Buffy sighed. "You can do whatever you
want. I can't stop you. But now that I know what is out there,
you can be sure that I'm never going to forget it -- no matter
what you and the librarian say!" She stood, regardless of
sore legs, bruises and skinned knees. "I need to go home
now. My mother will be worried."
Xander nodded, standing up as well. Inside
he felt like someone had placed one of his own stakes through his
heart, but on the outside he was the epitome of calm and
detached. "All right, I'll escort you home. Just let me tell
Giles what's going on, first."
Xander left Buffy by the cot for a minute
and walked over to speak to Giles and Sonya. "Hey, guys. I'm
gonna make sure Buffy gets home safely and then I'll be
right..." Xander trailed off, sensing the tension filled the
air. Placing a protective hand on Sonya's shoulder, he asked in a
quiet voice, "Is everything okay over here?"
Sonya bristled under Xander's touch and
yanked her arm away. Her voice began to rise as she cried,
"What IS it with you two? You act like I'm made of
glass!" She was practically yelling now but she didn't care.
"I'm not going to break, not again! So stop trying to
protect me from everything!"
Turning on Xander, she accused, "You
act like you're some kind of God-send, but in reality, you're
just a scared boy who can't stand the fact that his best friend
became a demon and has a yen for him! So to escape from that you
go out and kill the bad things. But you can't even do THAT right
can you? Willow has given you so many chances to kill her and end
the whole war, but you can't even bring yourself to do it! You're
a weakling!"
Sonya turned her gaze to Buffy for an
instant and then turned her wrath back on the pseudo-Slayer.
"And now to make matters worse, you're letting this blonde
bimbo distract you from your duties!"
At Xander's shocked expression, Sonya
snorted, "Yeah, you think I didn't see it? How you stare at
her when you think no one's looking? How whenever little Miss
Buffy comes into the room, you can't concentrate on anything else
but her? Puh-lease! It's so painfully obvious, even Giles saw it,
he was just too polite to say anything." Sonya reached out
and grabbed Xander's arm, pulling him down to her level, and said
in a lower voice, "If you want to drool over the blonde, do
it on your own time, Slayer-boy! Capeche?" With that, Sonya
turned her wheelchair around and headed for the doors, calling
over her shoulder, "If you need me, I'll be in my
cell."
Once outside the library doors, Sonya broke
down crying in huge sobs. What had she done? Xander and Giles
were the only two people in the world that she actually cared
about and she'd just exploded at them. And the things she'd said
to Xander... Sonya began to slowly wheel herself down the halls
and out the door of the school building, not caring if there were
vampires out or not. All she could see was Xander's face when
she'd flaunted her knowledge of his feelings for Buffy, throwing
it all back in his face. She didn't know how he could ever
possibly forgive her, but one thing was for sure, she knew that
she would never forgive herself.
Buffy had watched the scene unfold with an
overwhelming sense of helplessness. She didn't know about
'slaying' and 'watching,' but she figured it had something to do
with vampires. Everything these people did seemed to be about
vampires. Both Xander and Mr. Giles looked stunned and neither of
them said anything. She felt bad for them, especially for Xander
who really looked hurt, but her heart went out to the other girl.
Buffy remembered clearly the cell that one found in a wheelchair.
"Um..." Buffy stared at Xander,
her heart in her eyes, but she didn't know what to say to make it
better. She looked at the library doors, which were still
swinging. "I'll be back. Don't leave without me?" She
realized that was lame, but she jogged out into the shadowed
hallway, regardless if Xander was following her. If he was, she
hoped he knew enough to stay back.
She looked down the hall just in time to
see Sonya maneuver her chair out the door. Buffy ran after her.
"Wait!" When she propelled through the outside doors
she found Sonya sobbing as if her heart would break. Buffy moved
in front of Sonya and crouched down.
"Hey," she said quietly, "if
you need to talk to someone, I'm here." She paused and then
tried to smile. "I'll be honest -- I did resent the bimbo
remark, but I think I might know a little of what you're going
through."
From the look on Sonya's face, Buffy
thought the girl was about to protest, so she started talking
quickly. "You don't believe it to look at me, do you?"
Buffy leaned down and grabbed the torn part of her opaque white
tights. She ripped them open all the way down her right leg.
Puffy, red scars became visible, even in the moonlight.
"Almost two years ago, I was run over
by a truck. I was in traction for months, a wheelchair and braces
after that. It's taken me a long time to get back to the woman
you see before you..." Buffy tried to smile and make light
of her statement, but it was too close to her. A tear slipped
from the corner of one eye.
"I don't know why I told you
that," Buffy said to Sonya's unresponsive face. "You
probably don't want me messing in your life. I mean, I got better
-- am I correct in assuming you won't? Even when I was in your
fix I didn't want to talk to anyone. But now, I think it might
have been easier if I talked. So, if you want me to go, I'll go,
but I'm here if you need someone to talk to that might have even
the smallest chance at understanding."
Sonya scowled at Buffy, hastily wiping the
tears off of her cheeks. She averted her eyes for a moment, and
then looked back at Buffy, with a hint of apology in her eyes but
plenty of anger as well. "Look, I'm sorry for the bimbo
thing. That was kinda out of line. But if you expect me to
suddenly become your best friend just because you had to be in a
wheelchair before, then you're seriously deluding yourself,
Summers. So, do me a favor and back off, okay?"
Buffy shrugged. "Whatever. I just
wanted to make the offer." She realized that her words might
have sounded cold. Buffy was at the end of her emotional rope.
She had experienced the gamut of emotions tonight -- everything
from the joy of making a new friend, to the terror of being
attacked, to the frustration of realizing that everything she'd
thought she'd known about the world was a lie.
She sighed. Buffy remembered feeling
bitterness like Sonya's. If not for the loving care of her
mother, Buffy might still hate everyone. She looked the other
girl in the eyes. "I can see why you don't want to talk to a
complete stranger -- even though sometimes that makes it easier
-- that's why therapists make all that money." Buffy had to
consciously make herself stop rambling and pick up the threads of
her original point. "Anyway, you should talk to someone.
That anger can lock up your heart and ruin your life. It doesn't
hurt anyone but you, you know? My mom helped me through that
phase of recovery. You need to find someone who can help
you."
After she had said her piece, Buffy turned
and started the long walk home, totally forgetting that Xander
was supposed to escort her. She hoped that Sonya would be able to
work out her issues and she really wished she could help her out
with that, but until Sonya actually admitted that she needed
help, there was nothing more that Buffy could do for her.
Part Seven
"Pet!" Spike called when he
stepped foot over the threshold of their lair. "Where are
you? I have quite a surprise for you, baby! Wait 'til you hear
what daddy found out."
"And whatever could that be,
dearie?" Willow purred, stepping slowly out of the shadows.
She paused, posing seductively in her newly acquired, emerald
green, lace nightgown. "Tell me quickly now, for Mommy must
know!"
Spike moved closer to Willow and enjoyed
the view. "Pet! Is that a new outfit for me?" He tugged
on her long, auburn hair fiercely -- it might have hurt a mortal,
but for them it was play.
When Willow didn't answer him right away,
Spike put on a play pout. "Don't you care what Daddy has to
say, my lover?" The incestuousness of that statement didn't
bother him at all. But Willow wasn't very talkative tonight. The
frown quickly became real. When he'd been with Dru, she'd always
been interested in his findings. Of course, Dru had rarely gotten
out because she was so weak, but that didn't matter. If Spike
were going to share his victories with someone, she had to be
worthwhile.
His finger tangled itself deeper into her
hair, and then grabbed a bunch of it hard, pulling her head
backwards. "Your little pseudo-Slayer, that child who
pretends he's the Chosen One -- he's got a new girlie. Looks like
he's gotten over you for good, lover, and for a little blonde,
too."
Willow growled low in her throat, her true
face manifesting itself over her features as her anger grew. With
a yell, she wrenched herself free from Spike's grasp and pushed
him away. As he fell backwards onto the floor, knocking over a
nearby table and sending everything that had been sitting on it
crashing down around him, her eyes landed on his right hand,
which was clenched in a fist around a wad of auburn hair.
Willow felt tears of rage come to her eyes
as she reached a trembling hand to the back of her head and it
came back with blood smeared on the fingers from where Spike's
fingernails had dug deep into the sensitive skin of her scalp.
The sweet, coppery smell of the blood brought Willow back out of
her rage-fueled daze and she calmed down a bit, looking over at
Spike with a million questions in her eyes.
Knowing that her vampire lover's eyes were
still on her, Willow smiled a sultry smile and slowly licked the
blood off of her index finger. Taking a step forward, Willow
kneeled by Spike and swung her right leg across and over his
thighs, straddling him as he lay back on his elbows, watching her
every move. Then she smiled seductively, running her blood
covered fingers over his lips slowly. "Now, Spikey,"
she purred, lightly raking the nails of her other hand across his
chest through his black, silk shirt. "I know you're going to
tell me everything about the bitch who's sleeping with our enemy.
And you'd better not leave out any of the juicy details... or
Mommy will be very unhappy."
Spike's demon visage transformed his face
at the taste of blood on his lips. He licked her finger clean and
then nipped it with his fangs.
"Now you've gone and made me all
hungry again, lover. And I've already had my dinner
tonight." He pouted -- or it would have been a pout if his
fangs hadn't been in the way. But gradually he got control over
himself again, and proceeded to answer her question. "She's
a pert little blonde. Stunning actually. And strong, for a
mortal. She got a few good blows in on Linus before the
pseudo-Slayer came and staked him."
Spike paused, shaking his head. "I was
almost sorry to lose Linus. For a new one, he had good
style." Then he picked Willow up, and got to his own feet
before setting her down again. More gently this time.
"Anyway, Harris seemed a bit gaga for
the wench. He took her into the inner sanctum. I heard him call
her Buffy."
Spike grinned. "Now it's time for
dessert. You whetted my appetite. Coming, lover? Some tasty young
ones must be leaving the Bronze right about now."
Willow pouted prettily, looking down at her
new nightgown that was now stained with blood from their earlier
"festivities." Facing Spike, she grinned and stepped up
close to him, running her hands through his peroxide-blonde hair.
"Look at my new pretty clothes, they're all ruined now. I'll
have to throw them away 'cause blood stains never come out."
Tracing a finger down his cheek, she
giggled and said, "Maybe my Spikey will take me out to cheer
me up. We could kill some innocents, make a night of it. And then
we'll pay a visit to this Muffy... Duffy... Fluffy... Buffy
bitch."
Willow's eyes hardened and her smiled
disappeared to be replaced with an angry snarl. "I'll make
her regret ever sticking her nose into our affairs. And won't it
just be absolutely wonderful to watch Xander cry as he finds her
dead body waiting for him on his door step?"
Willow's eyes lit up at the thought of
causing Xander Harris pain. After the way he'd treated her, the
way he'd scorned her love, he deserved whatever they could dish
out at him! In her excitement, Willow pressed her forehead
against Spike's, clasping her hands around the back of his neck
and giving him a long, lingering kiss that promised more fun to
come... if he played his cards right. "I'm getting all hot
and excited just thinking about it, lover. We can drain her
together and dance on her grave!"
"Sounds fabulous to me, pet,"
Spike replied, whipping out his fangs again. "You find a new
gown that's not so... er... bloody. Then we'll go find some
dessert. And then we'll scout out the new girl in town."
Willow nodded and skipped off into her
bedroom, hardly able to contain her excitement. They were finally
going to make Xander pay for what he'd done to her! Willow felt
like dancing, she was so happy! Quickly pulling off the
bloodstained nightgown, Willow threw it into the trash and began
sorting through her wardrobe for something suitable to wear. As
she looked through all the clothes, she began to hum a merry
tune. Finally, Willow found the perfect outfit, it was one of
Spike's favorites. She pulled on the black, skin-tight leather
pants and the matching black leather boustier and then she
frowned. Something was missing.
Willow toyed with the idea of putting her
hair up and grinned, finally realizing what would make the
ensemble complete. Willow pulled her long, auburn tresses up into
a beautiful mass of curls on top of her head and left a few
tendrils hanging down to frame her lovely face. Then she picked
up a black, velvet choker necklace from the nearby table and
fastened it around her slender neck. Happy with the results of
her efforts, Willow quickly pulled on her boots and walked back
outside to where Spike was waiting for her.
After posing seductively for Spike's
benefit, she walked right up to him and linked her arm through
his. "Shall we go, lover?" she asked with a coy smile.
"It's long past time for dessert and Mommy's getting
hungry."
"C'mon, pet," Spike said,
slinging an arm around her luminous bare shoulders. Then they
walked off into the night.
Buffy was about halfway through the journey
to her house when she started to get the uneasy feeling that she
was being watched. She was still limping a little from the
encounter with Linus. So, as protection, she pulled the cross Mr.
Giles had given her out of her purse. Holding the wooden icon in
her hand made her feel better somehow. She heard footsteps
crunching on the gravel behind her, and whirled around.
"Who's there?" she demanded,
trying to make her voice sound fierce and strong.
Xander stepped out of the shadows, holding
up his hands. "Hey, chill out Xena Warrior Princess! It's
only me." Giving her a lop-sided grin and shoving his hands
into the pockets of his leather jacket, he added, "I
promise, I don't bite."
Buffy's scowl turned into a smile. Then the
smile dissolved into a carefully neutral expression. "So, no
one wants me hanging around, but you don't want me dismembered or
eaten on the way home. That's so sweet."
She turned around a kept walking towards
home. A part of her was grateful when he followed, though she was
still angry, too. She was angry at the librarian for his
inability to change. She was somewhat miffed at Sonya for not
taking her offer of friendship -- though Buffy knew there wasn't
any more she could do about that. But mostly Buffy was mad at
Xander. He didn't seem to care if they never saw each other again
just so long as his precious darkness warrior thing wasn't
disturbed. And part of her was angry at herself for caring what
Xander thought.
The silence grew oppressive, so finally she
said, "What am I supposed to do with all this, Xander? What
am I supposed to think?" She paused, biting her lip. "I
just don't understand. They let you into their little fighting
bad guys club, but I'm not good enough. It just seems to me that
you guys can use all the help you can get."
"They didn't really want me in their
fighting bad guys club, as you so eloquently put it,
either," Xander replied. He smiled a little bit, though it
was a sad smile. "But I didn't give them much of a choice in
the matter. I was such a fool back then."
Sighing, Xander said, "Look, there's a
lot that you don't know about me, Buffy. I guess you could say
there were extenuating circumstances." He paused, trying to
determine how much he should tell her. Finally, he came to a
decision. "Maybe it would help clear things up a little bit
if I told you about Willow."
At Buffy's puzzled frown, he clarified,
"She was my best friend for the first 15 years of my life.
We did everything together... she, me and Jesse. But about a year
and a half ago, both Willow and Jesse disappeared. No one knew
what had happened, but when the police found Jesse's body,
drained completely of blood, they assumed that Willow was dead,
too.
"I was a wreck after that. I mean, how
does a kid cope with the fact that the only two people in the
entire world that cared about him are dead? My parents weren't
any help, they never even cared about me before the incident, so
why should they change their tune now, right? So I just kind of
shut down. My grades, which weren't stellar to begin with, began
to slip and I pretty much stopped speaking to anyone. I became
the school freak, no one wanted anything to do with me, but I
didn't care. And then, when I was at my lowest point, Willow
decided to pay me a visit. That was how I met Sonya, actually.
She saved me from being turned into a vampire by Willow. And
after that, it became my mission in life to fight the vampires.
"Giles and Sonya wouldn't hear of it.
They said it was too dangerous for an ordinary mortal to fight
against vampires and other demons. But I didn't listen. I began
to follow Sonya on her patrols every night, staying just out of
sight, waiting for a chance to help. And then I got my wish,
though not really in the way I wanted it.
"You see, Sonya was fighting this big,
nasty vampire who called himself the Master. He lived
underground. And while they were fighting, there was a cave in.
The Master was killed by a falling rock that decapitated him, but
Sonya managed to almost make it out alive, until she was pinned
by a rock, unable to move her legs. That's when she was
paralyzed. I managed to get her out, but the damage was already
done. The doctors couldn't help her, so she and Giles decided to
look for other ways.
"Right now, they're trying to find a
spell to cure her, but the chances of them succeeding are slim to
none. So that's were I come in. You see, Willow took over as
leader of the vampires after the Master was killed. And she
wanted me dead because I wouldn't join her. So she kept sending
vampire assassins after me, which is why Giles finally agreed to
let me help -- me and this guy Angel, but I won't get into that
story now. If Giles hadn't decided to train me to be able to
fight the vamps, I would have ended up dead. Willow would have
seen to it. So now I get the oh-so-wonderful task of trying to
slay the vampires until we can cure Sonya."
Sighing, he added in a soft voice,
"Believe me, Buffy. If I had it all to do over again, I
would run away from this town as fast as my feet could carry me.
I mean, defending the world and all that jazz sounds really cool
in theory, but in real life, when you have to look death in the
face every night and spend all of your time fighting and no time
actually LIVING, the whole "chosen one" thing looses it
charm really fast."
Xander looked Buffy directly in the eyes
and said in his most serious voice, "That's why you should
just try to put all of this behind you, Buffy. Because if you're
not careful, the darkness just creeps up on you when you're not
looking and then one day you wake up and realize that you've been
spending all your time fighting vampires and other assorted
demons and everything else in life has fallen by the wayside. I
mean, I haven't even thought about making friends or having dates
or anything else normal in over a year and a half! While everyone
else my age is deciding who they're going to take to prom, all I
can think about are ambush tactics and how to improve my fighting
skills. I have no friends except for Sonya, Giles and Angel. And
even they don't really know me. They have no clue about what my
home life is like; only Angel has any idea about that and even he
doesn't know the whole story. The others just assume that all the
cuts and bruises I come in with are from vampires. They don't
know about any of that stuff."
Xander paused, running a hand through his
hair as he thought of the best way to phrase what he had to say
next. "Buffy, is that really what you want for your life?
Because if you throw in with us, you don't get to have a
"get out of jail free card" that lets you off the hook
when things go badly. Once you get mixed up in all of this, you
can't change your mind. It doesn't work that way. So you can just
forget about that normal life you seem to want, because that goes
right out the window first thing. And having a good relationship
with your mom or anyone else? Forget about it. Because no matter
what you decide to do, you can't tell anyone about all of this.
They couldn't handle it. And the secrets and lies that you'll
have to tell on a daily basis in order to keep the secret if you
join us basically ruin your other relationships."
"Look," Xander said, touching
Buffy's shoulder gently. "You wanted to know what you were
supposed to do now, right? Well, my best advice would be to just
go on with life. Yeah, you should be wary of going out alone at
night and always carry a cross with you for protection, but even
with all of that to deal with you could still live a normal
life." He smiled sadly and let his hand drop back to his
side.
"Trust me, it's better for you to move
on. You deserve to have a good life, without having to worry
about vampires and demons." He stopped speaking when he
realized that they were outside of her house. The mailbox had the
name "Summers" written on it in big letters.
"Well, here we are," he said
lamely, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. He stopped
speaking then, waiting to see what Buffy would say. After all,
he'd just poured out his entire life story to her, so now she
knew everything. Xander just prayed that Buffy would make the
right decision. He looked down at her, taking in her golden hair,
her perfect features, and her beautiful hazel eyes. He didn't
know what he'd do if something bad happened to her because of
him.
Xander tried to think of some other way to
convince her to stay away from them, to stay away from him, but
he couldn't seem to force himself to think coherently anymore. It
was like he'd exhausted himself, dredging up all those painful
memories that he'd tried to keep locked away deep inside, and now
his brain was shutting down on him. So he just stood there,
staring at her and waiting, for what he didn't know.
After a minute or two, Xander realized that
he was making somewhat of a fool of himself, just staring at her
this way. He tore his gaze away from her face and looked down at
the ground, absently scuffing his shoe on the pavement. Then he
looked up at her and asked timidly, "So, what are you
thinking?"
Buffy didn't really know what she was
thinking. Part of her agreed with Xander. She should run from
this faster than one should run from a fire, or a dissection in
biology class. But there was another part of Buffy that just
couldn't do that. During that fight with Linus, when Buffy had
smacked her foot into the vamp's chest with perfect accuracy,
there had been this sense of deja vu. She couldn't understand it,
but it was like somewhere, in another life, such a thing was the
norm. The feeling had vanished in actuality, but it remained as a
memory in the corner of her heart. She didn't want to lie to
people, and part of her didn't want to get involved at all. She
wanted to arm herself and get the hell out of Sunnydale. But
something stopped her.
Shaking her head, she looked up at Xander
from under her lashes. Even now there was an old bruise
decorating his jawline. It was turning yellow. She reached up and
touched it with a finger.
"I never wanted to be anything but
normal," she whispered. "But I stopped being normal
when a boy ran me down on the street in front of my old school. I
became a pariah. I had to grow up. But then, I was thinking about
it one day, and I started to wonder -- who really is normal? I
mean, was I normal before when all I cared about was the latest
hunk and what was on sale at the mall? Sounds like a scene right
out of an Alicia Silverstone movie. Then I thought that maybe
moving to Sunnydale would let me find normal. But it's not normal
here, either, and neither am I." She paused, a hint of
sadness in her voice. "There is no normal. I think we've got
to understand that and live with it."
She stopped and just looked at Xander.
Buffy realized her fingers were still on his cheek. His dark eyes
were staring at her with such intensity. Suddenly, all thoughts
of vampires and other unpleasantness vanished from her mind. She
leaned in a little bit, and kissed him.
At first, Xander was too stunned to do
anything but just stand there. He couldn't believe that she was
kissing him. Considering the track record he had with women, it
seemed like Buffy was just too good to be true. After all, the
only two girls he'd ever liked at all had ended up becoming a
vampire and a paralyzed, bitter, vampire slayer. However, all of
Xander's musings about his love life faded away when he felt
Buffy's lips softly brush against his.
Xander quickly got over his initial shock
and returned Buffy's kiss, his hands moving to the slender column
of her throat and lightly caressing, then moving up to rest
against her jawline, cupping her face gently as he deepened the
kiss.
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined
that something could feel so perfect, so right. Kissing Buffy was
like kissing in a dream. Xander wanted to go on kissing her
forever, but common sense prevailed and he slowly pulled away,
ending the kiss with great reluctance. He sighed, running his
fingers through her tousled blonde hair and planting a tender
kiss on her lips before taking a step back.
He saw the look of surprise on her face,
followed by a look of sadness and he quickly took hold of her
hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb in soft circles over her palm.
"We need to go inside," he told her as he began to lead
her toward the house, not dropping his grip on her hand,
"It's not safe out here at night."
They hadn't even gone two steps when a
voice from behind them replied, "You're right, it's not safe
out here."
Xander whirled around, moving Buffy behind
him, and saw Willow step out of the shadows with Spike close
behind her. He gulped, trying not to show his fear as he pulled a
stake out of his pocket.
"What's the matter?" Willow asked
in a singsong voice as she sauntered closer to the two teenagers.
"Not happy to see me?"
Part Eight
Xander didn't respond to Willow's comments.
Instead, as he moved forward to engage the enemy, he threw a
glance over his shoulder and caught Buffy's eyes, mouthing the
words, "Run; get inside the house."
He didn't have time to make sure she obeyed
him because Willow chose that moment to attack, lunging at him
with deadly speed. Xander dodged, bringing his foot up in a
viscous kick to her side and sending her reeling. She didn't stay
down long, however. Grinning madly, she jumped up and came at him
again, fists flying. Xander tried to evade her blows, but she was
just too damned fast, moving with a super-human speed. Xander
felt one blow land on his nose and heard a crunching sound. He
pushed the agony of the pain aside, thinking that his nose was
probably broken, and stepped back, playing for more time. But he
didn't count on Spike picking that moment to join in the battle,
grabbing his arms and pinning him, making him an easy target for
Willow's wrath.
As the female vampire came at him again,
Xander used Spike's grip on his arms for leverage and sent a hard
kick directly into Willow's midsection, knocking her to the
ground. The he twisted in Spike's grasp, managing to get one arm
free. That was enough to punch Spike in the face, hard. The blond
vampire released Xander, staggering backwards.
Xander turned and launched a kick at Spike
while he wasn't looking, catching him squarely in the jaw. Then
he followed up with a roundhouse kick, nailing Spike in the side.
He was about to ram his stake right through Spike's heart when he
heard a shriek come from behind him and before he could even
blink, Willow was on top of him, clawing at him with her
fingernails. He elbowed her in the ribs, knocking her away and
spun around, grabbing her by the hair and throwing her to the
ground harshly. Then he pulled her up while she was still dazed
from the fall and spun her around, locking her arms behind her
and rendering her helpless before placing the tip of his stake
against her heart.
Spike, who was just getting back to his
feet, stopped short when he saw Willow's predicament. Xander
grinned, tightening his grip on Willow. In answer to her earlier
question he replied, "No, I'm NOT happy to see you."
Sarcasm practically dripped from his voice as he added, "But
thanks for stopping by, really. It's nice to know you care."
Willow snorted, struggling to escape from
Xander's hold. "Yeah, well you'll be even less happy when we
rip your throat out, now won't you?" Looking over at Spike,
she added pointedly, "You know, help here would be
appreciated."
Spike rolled his eyes at Willow. He would
help when he was damn good and ready. Xander might just be a
pseudo-Slayer, but his kick had aimed true and smashed his jaw.
It had actually been broken before his preternatural healing took
over.
"Don't worry, lover," Spike
growled from behind his fangs. "He ain't gonna kill
ya." The blond vampire looked at Xander with his glowing
eyes. "Are you, boy-o? You've had a million opportunities,
and you let her go every time when she does the poor, pitiful
Willow routine." He gestured to Willow. "Get on with
it..."
Both Xander and Willow were staring at him
as if he were mentally incompetent. "Fine then," Spike
snapped, "force me to do it the hard way."
He turned and looked at Buffy. She had
backed away from the fight, but she hadn't gone inside. "Oh,
blonde girl, come to Daddy."
It was Buffy's turn to look at him as if he
were insane. "OK, you may be the first English vampire I've
encountered, but I'm not stupid. A foreign accent may cause other
girls to puddle at your feet, but not me." She pulled out
her cross and held it between herself and Spike. There were
several yards between her and the vampire.
Spike shrugged. "Oh, well." Then
he laughed. Before anyone, except maybe Willow, realized that he
had stopped the maniacal chuckles, Spike lowered his head and
charged toward Buffy with a supernatural speed.
Buffy's eyes widened and she jumped out of
the way in the nick of time. When she did just what Spike had
hoped, he lunged under her, twisted, grabbed her airborne feet
and threw her toward Xander and Willow with a mighty thrust.
The girl floundered in the air and, despite
obvious efforts to redirect herself, she crash-landed into
Xander. The mortals rolled a few feet and Xander lost his stake.
But somehow Buffy had managed to keep hold of her cross, which
she held between them and the vampires with a trembling hand.
The vampire strolled over to Willow and
helped her to her feet. "Now what should we do, my pet? This
is your show, after all. I only came a long for the food. But
it'll be bloody unpleasant to get them while the girlie is
holdin' that pesky bit o' wood. I, for one, don't relish the idea
of burned flesh."
He grinned at Buffy. He'd enjoyed tussling
with her in spite of himself. He knew if he tried harder he could
take her, and he would enjoy that. But for once, Spike was
interested in delayed gratification. "At least not on my own
flesh."
Buffy looked at Xander and then toward her
house. "Do you think we can make a break for it before they
catch us?" she whispered indecisively.
Xander made the decision for her, grabbing
her hand and taking off for the house. He heard the vampires
giving chase and quickened his pace, scrambling up the porch
steps and toward the door. Once there, he grabbed the doorknob
and twisted, cursing under his breath when he realized that the
door was locked. "Where are your keys? Get them out and
unlock the door!" he cried, pushing Buffy toward the door
and standing between her and the oncoming vampires. He grabbed
her cross out of her hand and thrust it out, catching Spike
across the jaw with the wooden tip.
The vampire's flesh sizzled and burned from
where the cross touched him and he screamed in agony, falling
back. Willow wisely backed off as well, growling low in her
throat but staying just out of reach of the cross. Xander glanced
over his shoulder, seeing that Buffy was rummaging through her
purse for the house keys, before turning his attention back to
the vampires. He hoped that she found the keys soon.
"I can't find them!" she hissed
to Xander almost in a panic. The two vamps were crouching around,
just waiting for an opportunity.
They heard a jingle and looked up in dread.
Spike was dangling her keys on one of his long, white fingers.
"Missing these, luv?" He grinned, showing off his
pointed fangs.
"Where did you get those?" Buffy
demanded angrily.
"Found 'em. In an alley. Behind the
Bronze. Guess you must've lost 'em when you met up with my pal
Linus. You 'member Linus don'cha? My newest son that your
boyfriend KILLED?"
Buffy gave Xander a look that said 'cover
me,' and then she made her move. There was no other choice. She
palmed the stake Mr. Giles had given her, holding it behind her
back. Dropping the purse, she grabbed the decorative statue next
to the front door and in one quick move smashed it over Willow's
head. It was a dazing blow. Buffy was able to get behind the
vampire girl and hold the stake to her heart.
"Give me the keys, or I'll kill
her," Buffy ordered. Her voice was firm, which belied the
panic she felt inside. Vampires were quick healers, if Willow
regained full consciousness Buffy could never hold her. Taking a
few Tae Kwan Do classes might make her more agile on her new
legs, and might even help her defend herself against a mugger,
but not against a supernaturally strong vampire.
Spike looked at the girls, glowering. He
seemed torn between his desire to get Xander and Buffy and his
desire to save his paramour. Part of Buffy's mind wondered if
vampires had the capacity to love, and if so, if Spike really
loved Willow. She hoped so -- this move was banking on it.
Finally Spike tossed Xander the keys.
Xander caught them deftly, not lowering the cross one iota. At
that moment, Willow groaned and started to move. Buffy pushed
Willow with all her strength, sending her straight into Spike.
The vampire managed to catch her, but the unexpected weight
nearly toppled them both.
Buffy grabbed the keys from Xander, put the
right one in the keyhole and ran inside, with Xander coming after
her. Seconds after they crossed the threshold, Spike regained his
balance and lunged for them. Something like an invisible wall
kept him from reaching him. Spike growled. A little jumpy, but
feeling more secure, Buffy slammed the door in his face.
She turned to Xander. "So that not
being able to come in unless they're invited thing really works,
huh?"
Buffy jumped when she heard her mom's voice
from upstairs. "Buffy, is that you, honey? How was your
night? You can tell me all about it over hot chocolate."
"Oh, no," Buffy moaned. Of all
the times for her mom to wake up. She looked at Xander. "You
can't go out there right now. I won't let you! You may have some
special training, but you're not facing those two alone. Can you
think of some reason to tell my mom why you have to spend the
night. Like your house is being fumigated, but something she'll
believe?"
Just them Joyce came down the stairs with a
big smile on her face. The smile fell for an instant when she saw
Xander, and she clutched her robe more tightly about her
shoulders. "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't know you'd have
company." She looked questioningly at Xander, and Buffy
tried frantically to think of something to say.
"Um... Mom... this is Xander..."
Part Nine
Interlude:
England
The cold breeze whipped Angel's trench
coat, but he didn't feel cold. Or, more to the point, he never
felt warm, so the coldness didn't matter. He walked with a
purposeful stride, but he kept to the shadows when possible, not
wanting to be noticed.
The Watcher Compound was on an estate in a
rural part of England, as close to London as possible while
sustaining the ruralness. On the outside, the compound looked
innocuous enough. Angel had asked the locals, and most people
thought the estate served as some sort of finishing school,
training likely lads and lasses for the future. They were more
right then they knew ... but more wrong then they knew as well.
If they knew what kinds of occult incidents happened behind the
great stone walls and the cast-iron gates, they would drive out
the Watchers like the mob drove out Frankenstein. But if Watchers
knew one thing, it was how to be inconspicuous.
Of course the compound had a security
system, but with Giles' help, Angel knew the codes to turn off
the motion detectors. The heat sensors were no problem for
someone who was already dead, and with his non-photogenic nature,
Angel would not show up on any security cameras. Giles had even
provided Angel with a medallion to wear against Watcher
anti-vampire spells and a key ring full of useful keys -- the
front door, the back door, several side doors, and keys to
several locked rooms where private information was stored. The
only big problem they had in getting him inside was how to
circumvent the whole inviting rule. Giles had sworn to Angel that
he had that covered. "Be at the door at 1:30 a.m., sharp,
and someone I trust will be waiting to let you in."
Avoiding the night watchman easily, Angel
went right up to the front door and waited. The second his watch
hit 1:30, the door swung open.
"Won't you come in?" a well-bred,
British voice asked politely.
Angel nodded and crossed the threshold. He
started to introduce himself to the young Watcher - a man,
seemingly in his early twenties, with short, brown hair and
glasses - but the man stopped him.
"Please don't," the young Watcher
said. "I can't know any more than necessary about you and
what you're up to. Mr. Giles was my mentor a long time ago, so
I'm willing to do him this favor, but it can't go beyond this. If
the upper echelons of the Council find out about this, my rank
would be lost. Be aware, as soon as you leave, I will cast a
spell that nullifies your access to this place, so this is your
one chance."
Angel nodded. "Thank you."
The young Watcher adjusted his glasses with
nervous fingers, and then disappeared down the hall, leaving the
vampire to fend for himself.
The locked rooms were right where Giles had
said they would be, down a long, musty corridor and on the right.
Angel went inside and locked the door behind him. He turned and
found himself in a room with rows upon rows of endless filing
cabinets. He felt a twinge of frustration. Where should he start?
Then he looked at the nearest filing cabinet and smiled. Handy
labels on the outside of each drawer told what was inside, and
relevant dates. Angel smiled at the Watchers and their collective
Type-A personality.
When he reached the cabinet that said
"Known Vampires, A - M" and the year of his
transformation, Angel hesitated. It would be so easy to look and
see what they knew about him. It would hurt to see records of his
vile past, but it would be useful to know what Giles had reported
about him. Angel knew that Giles no longer trusted the Council --
that was the reason for this whole covert operation. However,
before Sonya's accident, Giles might have made full reports to
the Council, including mentions of Angel. And though Angel now
counted Giles an ally, he didn't think the rest of the
tradition-bound Council members would take too kindly to
befriending a vampire -- even a vampire with a soul.
But thinking of Giles and Sonya made Angel
remember that he didn't have time to dally. He was needed in
Sunnydale almost as much as the information he'd been sent to
collect. Xander was a good Slayer, for a mortal with no
superpowers whatsoever. Over the last year or so, the pair had
even become friends, sort of. Angel was the only person who knew
about Xander's difficult home life, and though Angel had found
out about it by accident, he had kept the secret safe to protect
the boy's reputation. Angel felt a sense of responsibility for
the boy, though he would never say such a thing to Xander. The
pseudo-Slayer wouldn't take kindly to knowing he was being looked
after. But then, Sonya hadn't taken too kindly to that either. It
was rough getting past her guard, and he seldom succeeded.
Angel wondered yet again if he'd tried
harder if he could have stopped the accident. Then he quashed
that thought. It would do him no good to brood! If there was one
thing Sonya's accident had shown him, it was the brooding held no
purpose in the fight against evil. Actions -- like killing
Drucilla instead of letting her feed on an innocent, 10-year-old
boy and getting vital information from the Council -- were what
counted.
He walked past the cabinet where his file
would be and with some searching, finally found the cabinet for
"Twentieth Century Slayers." The files were in
chronological order, so Sonya's was the last. But the name on the
file before Sonya's leapt out at him. Buffy Summers. The accident
that had crippled the young girl and changed her destiny flashed
into his mind, as vivid as the day he'd witnessed it. He wondered
what she was doing now. If her broken bones had healed and if she
was having a happy life. He'd always felt some sort of connection
to her. He couldn't help himself -- he pulled out the file. It
was very thin. The first few pages chronicled her life up to the
point of her accident. Then there was a brief entry about the
accident itself, with an attached eyewitness account by Merek,
the man who would have been her Watcher. Then, in red ink, the
words "Subject no longer viable. Watching terminated."
Angel sighed and put the folder back in its
spot. He pulled Sonya's folder out and, using the copy machine
that they handily kept in the records room, copied it in its
entirety. As he pulled the last page off of the machine, Angel
read an entry that surprised him, but it wasn't a good surprise.
"Word from Mr. Giles sporadic at best, and suspect. He cares
for his charge too much. During the upcoming test, evaluations
will be made to ascertain the need for a new Watcher." The
date for the test was scarcely three months away. Now he
understood the urgency he'd heard in the librarian on the phone.
Giles probably knew about the test, but Angel doubted that he
knew about his own test. Their time was ticking away fast.
He looked down at his watch. It had been an
hour. He'd been in there too long, and he had yet to find the
spells Giles needed. But there was no help for it. Giles' contact
would let him in again, so this was his only chance.
Angel walked down rows of filing cabinets,
looking for subject headings that seemed helpful. He pulled open
a few drawers, with no results. Then Angel found what he was
looking for. An entire cabinet of healing spells, organized in
alphabetical order by the disease or injury being healed. He
flipped to the "p" section for paralysis. Nothing. He
tried the "q" section for quadriplegic. Nothing. Angel
checked "s" for spinal injuries, but found nothing
there either. There was nothing helpful under the heading of
"nerves" or "nerve damage,"
"walking" or any other subject that Angel could think
of.
Angel wanted to slam the drawer shut in
frustration, but he held back out of caution. He started to walk
toward the door, but something stopped him. He couldn't leave
this room with out an answer. Then a subject heading on a filing
cabinet caught his eye. This could be it! He tried the door, but
this one was locked. It was the only locked cabinet in the whole
room - that had to mean something! Giles didn't even have a key
for this one. But that didn't matter. Angel just pulled harder,
breaking the lock. He'd hoped to leave without any evidence that
he'd been here, but that was moot now. Luckily, the noise wasn't
too loud. It might be days (or even weeks or months considering
all the filing cabinets in the huge room) before anyone
discovered the lock was broken.
Hurriedly, Angel flipped through files.
There had to be something in here! There just had to be. It was
his last chance - and Giles, Sonya and Xander's last chance, as
well. Then he found something -- it wasn't what Giles had asked
for, but it might do, especially since there was no other
alternative.
Angel pulled the spell from the drawer and
made a quick copy of it, adding the papers to the stack in his
hands. Then he put the spell back in the drawer and vacated the
Watchers' Compound as quickly as his preternatural speed would
let him.
When he got back to his room at the hostel,
Angel knew it was too late to call Giles, and Angel was tired. He
laid down on the bed, with the precious papers on the pillow next
to him, and fell asleep, promising himself to call Giles the
moment he woke up.
End of Interlude.
Back in Sunnydale...
Xander froze when he saw Joyce, his brain
trying to think of something to say but failing miserably. He
could just imagine what she must think, seeing her daughter sneak
into the house with some strange young man in the middle of the
night. He suddenly wished he looked more presentable. Xander
looked down at his dirt covered jeans, ripped and bloody shirt,
and bruised body. He winced, quickly realizing that he was not a
pretty picture. After the fight with Willow and Spike, he really
looked the worse for wear. He glanced frantically around the
room, trying to think of some way to get them out of this mess.
Then his eyes landed on Buffy's panic stricken face and he
suddenly felt the fierce need to protect her from any and all
trouble, including the kind of trouble she could get in with her
mother. Xander didn't take the time to think about what those
kinds of feelings could mean; he just acted on impulse.
Xander ran a hand through his hair, trying
to dislodge any grass bits that had gotten tangled in it during
the fight with the vampires. Then, smiling a somewhat strained
smile, he stepped forward and extended his hand, saying politely,
"Hello, Mrs. Summers."
Joyce shook his hand and offered a simple
hello in return.
Xander took that as a good sign and
continued. "Well, I can guess what you must be thinking...
strange guy coming in with your daughter in the middle of the
night and all of that. Every parent's nightmare, I'm sure. But,
at the risk of sounding cliched, this is not how it looks."
Xander paused, trying to think of something
to say that would explain everything without actually saying
anything about vampires. He guessed he could pull the "your
daughter was being mugged by some bad men and I saved her"
routine, but he didn't think Mrs. Summers would buy that for a
minute. She was sharp. She would realize that they weren't
telling her everything right away. So Xander decided to go with
the only other plausible explanation he could come up with on the
spur of the moment, aside from the oh-so-clever fumigation story.
Xander sighed, looking up at Joyce and then
at Buffy, who were both still waiting for his explanation. He
hoped he was doing the right thing here...
"Well, it's kinda a long story. But
the gist of it is... I can't go home tonight. My parents..."
Xander looked down at the floor, staring at a spot on his tennis
shoe. He absolutely hated talking about his home life. It didn't
matter whether or not he was telling the truth at this very
moment. It didn't matter that his father hadn't been so bad this
week. Because eventually, his father would have just a little too
much to drink and then Xander would have to start locking himself
in his room at night again, cowering by the closet with the
sheets wrapped tightly around his trembling form until the
morning sun rose in the sky, signaling his chance to escape to
school and training with Giles and Sonya. For as long as he could
remember, it had been this way. Evading his father at night and
escaping during the day.
Intellectually, Xander knew that he was
physically stronger than his father was. But he could never bring
himself to strike back at the man. Perhaps it was just the
ingrained sense of fear that his father had placed in him with
many years of abuse. But whatever the reason, Xander still quaked
with fear at the sight of him in one of his rages. It was ironic
really, since Xander had faced down many vampires and demons and
things that go bump in the night in his time as the stand-in
slayer. But some demons... you just couldn't fight.
It still hurt to say anything about it out
loud, especially in front of Buffy. But he pressed onward, trying
to make the best of it. "Well, let's just say that they
wouldn't win any Parenting of the Year awards. They're both
pretty fond of alcohol, especially my father, and sometimes they
just go to far. And it's better for me to be elsewhere when that
happens."
He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant about
the whole thing. "I used to go spend the night at my friend
Willow's house. Her parents were really cool; they never asked
any questions. They just let me sleep on the couch. But, ever
since she died last year... Well, I'm not really welcome there
any more. I'd bring back too many painful memories for
them."
Xander looked up at Joyce and smiled
tentatively. "Your daughter was nice enough to offer to let
me stay here tonight. She said something about you guys having a
first rate couch. But if it's a problem, I'll leave. I mean, I
don't want to cause any trouble or anything."
Buffy looked back and forth from Xander to
her mother. She didn't know what to think. Was this Xander just
making up a story? She wanted to think so because it was a
horrible story, but there was something so authentic in his
telling of it. She watched as her mom watched Xander, and
wondered what Joyce was thinking.
"Buffy," Joyce said in her most
motherly tone, "go upstairs and get the peroxide and some
bandages. We need to take care of Xander's scrapes here."
After Buffy was gone, Joyce escorted Xander
into the kitchen where she gave him a paper towel. "Use this
to staunch the blood flow from your nose." She looked over
his wounds with the professional eye of a long-time mother who'd
seen her share of accidents. "It's not broken," she
said with confidence, "but it will hurt like heck for
awhile."
Joyce's eyes narrowed on Xander. "I
don't know you, Xander, but my daughter seems to trust you. And I
trust my daughter. You're more than welcome to stay here tonight,
or any night."
She paused and then continued. "Look,
this isn't any of my business, but I'd be failing in my duty as a
mother and a human being if I didn't say something. What your
father is doing to you is wrong." She saw an expression on
his face like he was about to object, but she talked right over
him. "You've probably heard this a million times, but I've
got to say it. You should do something about it. You may not be
ready now, but if you ever are and you need anything you can come
to me."
Just then Buffy came back in with the
bandages, and Joyce changed the subject, moving on the more
inconsequential matters. With practiced fingers, Joyce cleaned
his cuts and bruises, and bandaged his wounds. She scrounged
Xander an old T-shirt and shorts to wear, and spirited his dirty
things off to the washing machine. Then she told Buffy to make up
the couch, and Joyce headed back upstairs.
Buffy found blankets and a pillow and put
them on the couch for him. "So," she said, her tone
worried, "how are you doing?"
Xander shrugged, sitting down on the couch
and pulling his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around
his legs and leaned his chin down on his knees. "I'll be
okay," he said softly, disgusted with himself when he heard
the tell-tale tremor in his voice. He was NOT going to cry in
front of Buffy. Not over the vampires, not over how much he
missed Willow, not over his sad excuse for a life, and most
definitely not over his low-life father. "I just need a few
minutes to pull myself together. Then, before you even have a
chance to blink, I'll be everyone's favorite Xander-shaped friend
and psuedo-Vampire Slayer once again!"
Xander tried to give Buffy one of his
famous, lop-sided grins but moving his face too much made his
nose hurt, so he quickly gave up on that idea. Reaching a hand up
to lightly touch the bandage on his nose, he recalled the last
time it had gotten busted up. It had been during a particularly
bad fight with his parents. His father had just lost his job and
was drowning his anger in alcohol, like always. Of course, the
alcohol didn't help lessen the anger one bit. It had only served
to make things worse in the Harris household.
---Begin Flashback---
The door slamed loudly as Albert Harris
made his way into his darkened house. As he was walking, his
steps slow and awkward due to the excessive amounts of alcohol in
his system, he banged his shin against the coffee table and
cursed loudly. "Damned woman never cleans up this place!
How's a man supposed to live in a hellhole like this? BRENDA!!!
Get your fat ass down here right now, you lazy, ungrateful
bitch!"
Hurried steps could be heard coming down
the stairs, taking them two and even three at a time. When Brenda
Harris reached the end of the stairs and saw Albert standing
there in a furious, drunken rage, she froze like a deer caught in
the headlights. "Albert?" she whispered, feeling the
tears start to come, "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? What's WRONG? What the
bloody hell do you THINK is wrong, woman!" Albert yelled,
his face turning an unhealthy shade of red due to his anger.
"I cut the hell out of my leg because you were too lazy to
clean this damn place up!" Albert reached out and grabbed
his wife by the hair, dragging her into the kitchen and pushing
her roughly to the floor.
As he moved toward her, like an animal
stalking its prey, he slowly loosened the belt from around his
waist and pulled it free of his dirty jeans, folding it over to
make it into a decent paddle.
Brenda cowered before the man she had
married, fear etched onto her face. "Albert... please...
don't..." she whispered, but her pleading only served to
enrage her husband even more. Tightening his grip on his
make-shift paddle, Albert prepared to strike.
As the hand holding the belt whooshed down
toward her face, Brenda shrieked and scooted backwards, narrowly
missing the blow intended to knock her unconscious. Albert
growled, grabbing her by the hair to prevent any further escapes
and lifted his belt to strike again. But this time, as the belt
came flying down, another hand reached out and stopped it and a
scared but determined voice said, "No. Not again."
Albert released Brenda in his rage at the
newcomer's interference and whirled around to come face to face
with his only son. "Alexander LaVelle Harris, what the HELL
do you think you're doing?" he yelled, the alcohol causing
his words to slurr slightly. Brenda chose that moment of
distraction to scoot farther away, out of Albert's reach but
still close enough to see what was going on.
Xander, who was only 15 at the time and
knew nothing about the world of vampires and demons that he would
later come to face, flinched at the anger in his father's voice.
But he didn't falter in his resolve. "Leave her alone,
Dad." He bitterly spit the last word out of his mouth like
something foul, something unclean.
Albert sneared at Xander and replied,
"Oh, so the little boy is finally growing some balls,
eh?" He laughed, tightening his grip on his belt before
growing deadly serious. "You contradicted me, boy. You're
gonna bleed for that."
Before Xander could think of a reply, the
belt flew through the air and slapped him across the face with a
sickening crunch, sending shooting pain through him. As he fell
backwards, his backside hitting the floor painfully, Xander
reached a trembling hand up to touch his nose, shocked to see the
sticky, crimson colored blood that came away on his fingers.
Xander heard the whimpering sounds that his mother was making
from over in the corner of the kitchen, but he knew that she
would be no help to him now. She was too far gone to do anything
but cry.
As his father advanced toward him, the
now-bloody belt slapping ominously against his thigh, Xander
prepared himself for the next blow and fervently hoped that he
would pass out this time before the pain became unbearable. In
the distance, the crying grew louder...
---End of Flashback---
... and that was when Xander realized that
he was the one crying, with his arms wrapped around his knees and
his head facing away from Buffy. He wanted to stop, he commanded
himself to stop, but the tears just kept flowing. Pathetic
much, Xand, he thought as he swiped at the offending
moisture on his cheeks angrily with one hand. Now Buffy
probably thinks you're a big wuss. She'll never want to see you
again, bud. You might as well consider it over before it even
officially began, whatever IT was. Tough break.
When Xander started to cry, Buffy
hesitated, unsure of what to do. Things were going on inside of
him that she didn't and couldn't understand. After a minute, she
sat down next to him on the couch, but he turned his head the
other way. It stung like rejection, but she knew he just didn't
want her to see his tears. That was very much a guy thing.
She put her arms on his back and rubbed
between his shoulder blades, murmuring comforting words in a low
voice. What she said was no where near as important as the fact
that she was saying something. When he started to calm down,
Buffy moved around to where she could see his face. Then she
hugged him, letting him spend the last of his tears with his head
tucked under her chin.
"I never cared for this dress
anyway," she said with a smile as he pulled back a little,
realizing he'd made a damp spot. She touched his face when he
looked a little guilty. "It's OK, I don't mind. But how are
you doing now?"
What he did next surprised her. Instead of
talking, or making a joke, or pushing her away, he leaned in and
kissed her. It was a fierce and passionate kiss. She could feel
his teeth through his lips as he pressed against her. Zings of
excitement started in her stomach and radiated out through her
body. But then she started to think about it in the tiny corner
of her mind that wasn't wrapped up in Xander's lips, his hands in
her hair, his breath on her cheek. Besides the fact that her
mother could come back down at any second and catch them making
out, Buffy knew that this probably wasn't the best way for him to
deal with whatever was bothering him. Instead, in a way, this was
kind of like drowning one's sorrows in alcohol -- a way not to
think about his problems.
After a few minutes, Buffy pushed him back.
It was hard, but she managed to do it. And she couldn't stop
smiling, because no matter his reasons for kissing her it did
mean something. It meant that -- no matter what he'd said earlier
-- he did like her, and that maybe they could have a real date,
or even a real future.
When she looked at his face she saw the
familiar look of guilt coming back to it. She hurried to correct
him. "No, it's fine." Her smile was brilliant.
"More than fine actually..." The confession wrung a
blush from her cheeks. "I just ... we can't do this
now." She gestured toward the stairs. "My mom..."
Buffy stood up. She was a little
embarrassed now. "Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning
..." Xander gave her a little wave. "Sleep well."
She stepped away, but then she leaned back in and gave him
another quick kiss. Then, with a silly little smile that she
couldn't get rid of, Buffy went upstairs and got ready for bed.
After their monumental failure, Spike was
in a bad mood. He grabbed Willow -- who was still mildly stunned
-- and threw her over his shoulder. Then he started walking back
to their lair.
"I can't believe it," he
muttered. "All that and they got away. Bloody hell! I
thought you really wanted them this time, what?"
When they got home, he lofted her down onto
the bed and threw himself down next to her, trench coat and all.
"So now what?" he wondered aloud.
He turned his head and looked over at Willow. "Pet? Are you
all right? I need some help plotting and scheming here!"
Willow didn't reply right away. She just
lay there, staring dreamily at the ceiling. When Spike nudged her
arm, prompting her to say SOMETHING to him, she smiled and rolled
over onto her side, leaning back on her elbow and watching her
lover with partially unfocused eyes. The silence finally got the
best of him and Spike sat up, tearing off his trench coat and
throwing it violently across the room. Willow reached out and
grabbed his shoulder with a steel-like grip and pulled him back
down beside her. "Don't get all angry, Spike. Anger doesn't
help us. It only makes us foolish and hasty."
She leaned over the peroxide-blond vampire
and grinned widely, tracing a fingernail leisurely down his
chest. "Besides, we haven't lost yet, lover. Far from it. We
now know exactly where to strike next." Willow giggled,
letting her copper-red hair fall down over her pale face.
"And when we do, we'll make them pay for what they've done
to us."