Entry tags:
Fic: Divided Destiny. Chapter 18
Right, this is a long one. But hopefully rewarding. :)
First chapter & notes here (on LJ), for DW just follow the tags, and Master post of whole 'verse here (also tagged on DW).
Can also be found on AO3.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: Teen. (Same warnings as the show basically.)
Characters: Spike, Angel, Illyria, Buffy, Scoobies + cameos from more or less everyone in the 'verse.
Main Ships: Spike/Buffy, Angel/Nina
Feedback: Is bloody ambrosia! (The secret ingredient is otter...)
Word count (this chapter): 5000 words approx.
Setting and Summary: As before. (Post-NFA epic quest thing.)
Beta: The ever wonderful![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kathyh
Chapter 18
September 2005
“Buffy - you’re finally here! Thank goodness!”
Giles tried his best to infuse his voice with warmth as well as relief, but considering the news he was about to impart he found it hard to appear jolly. Not that he wasn’t pleased to see her - he always was - but in the circumstances...
“So... what is it?” she asked, throwing down her always-ready-to-go essentials bag beside the door before taking a seat. He could tell that she was weary and somewhat annoyed at being summoned, not having been home for a good while when he called her, but he really had needed to see her in person.
Tiredly he ran a hand through his hair, and resisted the urge to sit down. He’d done far too much sitting these last few weeks, poring over old scrolls and books.
“Well - we’ve had a breakthrough in the translations.”
“And?”
Always so to the point, he thought. Always taking every hit straight on the chin. And even with all the travelling she still managed to look good - how she found time to shop he didn’t know, but he was sure her wardrobe was truly international now. A thoroughly modern, well-dressed and competent young woman, his Buffy. Sighing he forced his thoughts back to the matter at hand. She was also a warrior.
“We have discovered that this apocalypse is the work of Talnor, Master of all Beasts. A... mythical figure it was thought - from outside our dimension of course.”
She nodded, obviously wondering what the bad news was. A name didn’t merit her being there in person.
“So - he’s the guy who’ll show up in November?”
Giles nodded, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. The ancient text danced behind his eyelids for a moment, then he met Buffy’s eyes.
“It’s not that simple... He will be leading an army of - of beasts. It is hard to find a description, or any sort of indication of how large this army is.”
”An army... of beasts?” He could hear the incredulous note in her voice, but she probably couldn’t help it.
“I’m afraid so. He... controls them, so they all work together. It is - a challenge I am not sure how to classify.”
“Challenge? Challenge? How - how are we supposed to fight an army of beasts with better co-ordination that us? How do we train for this? Can we train for this? I mean...” she threw her hands up, “I can’t just kidnap a few lions to use for practice, can I?”
He tried his best not wince at her words, and manfully refrained from telling her that he was only the messenger. Then he saw her taking a deep breath to calm down.
“Sorry Giles... I just...”
He nodded. “However - I’m afraid it’s not even that simple, Buffy.”
“No?” The exhaustion that had been lying just under the surface suddenly seemed to settle on her in earnest, and he dearly wished to just reach out and give her a hug. But that wasn’t an option just now. He sighed.
“If... it is an ‘if’, but there is the possibility, given the particular word choice in one of the texts-”
“What is it?” Tired she might be, but she still couldn’t stand waffle.
“Well, there is the possibility that he will also be able to control any animal in this dimension also.”
She stared at him for a long moment as the implications sank in.
“OK - we’re screwed.”
“Buffy...”
He could feel the memories of similar moments crowding in on them - the part where he was just the one to locate the danger, but she was the one who had to go and fight - put her life on the line while all he could do was watch. Of course there were so many of them now... so many girls who would go out and fight and never come back.
Slowly she raised her head, taking on this newest burden.
“I know how it goes Giles. We’ll figure something out - as usual. I presume all the wiccas are busy working on figuring out if anything magical can stop him?”
He nodded and was silently grateful that at least they still had four months to prepare... if they could work out how to prepare.
“Anything else?” she asked, and he shrugged. “We had some form of rodent infestation that chewed on all our back-up files and disks, but I’ve got a team working on making new ones. It’ll take a while, but it’s nothing to be worried about.”
She stared at him, sudden alarm in her eyes, and he frowned. “What?”
“Oh my God - you just totally jinxed it!”
When the door burst open two seconds later she clearly felt like shaking her finger at him and saying ‘What did I say?’ even before the young Slayer confirmed her prophetic words.
“Mr Giles? It’s the computers!”
He stared at the girl in mute horror.
***
“Spike.”
Giles never looked pleased to see Spike, but this time the antipathy was almost palpable, even though Giles was clearly trying his best to be civil. It really was the most unfortunate timing, Buffy thought to herself, but it couldn’t be helped. She could of course send Spike away again, but it had been weeks since she’d seen him, and what with the latest news she really needed him to just be there. He was her drop-dead gorgeous vampire boyfriend, and she had every right to have him by her side. And this was exactly the sort of thing she should be doing - involving him in her life and making sure he got along with her friends. And Angel had gone to spend time with his girlfriend…
“So, Buffy tells me you’re havin’ some problems with your databases, Rupert,” Spike drawled, and Buffy could see Giles’ inner anger-o-meter go up a few notches.
“A few-” he shook his head, and waved a hand towards the wall of computer screens, all of which displayed varying degrees of gobbledygook. “Everything is down. It’s dead! A - a virus or bacteria - whatever these things are called - has destroyed the whole thing!”
Spike looked around at the computers and the excessive wiring - all of which Illyria was studying like she’d found a particularly interesting insect. He also took in the techno-savvy Slayers, the two Watchers and a Wicca, all of whom looked fed-up and giving-up, and shrugged. “Hardly the end of the world though, is it? I mean - that’s still like half a year off, right?”
“Please,” Buffy said, putting a hand on his arm, “don’t be obnoxious.”
“I’m obnoxious?” he asked, and she nodded. “You’re always obnoxious when you’ve spent time with Angel. Obnoxious or broody.”
“Oh, but - but that’s not my fault, is it? He just brings out the worst in me! Also, how bad can this be?”
Buffy sighed, resignedly, and Giles took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself. “Spike - you don’t understand. This was where we stored all the information about all the Slayers. Every profile, every contact address, every status report, everything we’ve done this past two years... and I don’t know if we can get it back. I never trusted all this technology, but Willow...” he dragged a tired hand across his face, “Willow set it all up, saying it was safe as houses, and I’m not sure if anyone else can ever hope to figure it out. Our experts here have tried their best, but it’s not doing any good. Andrew - who is our last hope, as ridiculous as that might sound - is away at some convention or other in America and... unreachable. And we can - for obvious reasons - not ask for outside help. If I were a religious man, I would pray for a miracle, but...”
His voice trailed off, and Buffy could tell that Spike was trying his hardest to look sympathetic. Then suddenly Illyria materialised in front of them.
“Phone,” she demanded, holding out her hand, and Spike frowned.
“What?”
“Phone.”
Looking puzzled Spike pulled out his cell from his pocket, and Illyria plucked it out of his hand. Swiftly typing in a number with one hand she walked over to the main console, grabbed a chair and sat down, whilst at the same time something strange seemed to be happening to her face and body.
As they could faintly hear the phone start to ring, Buffy involuntarily gasped. On the chair now sat a pretty young girl, dressed in a white top and blue jeans and with soft brown hair caressing her shoulders.
“Hi Marty,” she smiled as someone picked up, “it’s Coco. Can I ask a you a favour?”
Looking around, Buffy saw that the other girls looked as stunned as she felt. Of course she knew that Illyria’s body had once belonged to one of Spike and Angel’s friends, but she hadn’t known that she could change like that. With a small frown she realised that Giles didn’t look surprised, just grim - yet another thing that he’d known about, and she not.
Turning to glance at Spike, she saw that he looked ready to faint, having turned whiter than she thought possible. His eyes were full of pain - more than she had seen for a long, long time. He had looked the same way when he’d begged her to kill him.
Gently she put a hand on his arm, and he almost startled.
“Why ‘Coco’? Do you know?” she asked, trying to get him to come out of the walls that were surrounding him, and he swallowed.
“When... when we play ‘Crash Bandicoot’ I am Crash and she is Coco... the brainy, ass-kicking sister...”
His voice trailed off, as Illyria chatted away, sounding so un-Illyria like that it was downright creepy.
“...See I have some friends who have this huge enormous system that’s crashed, full of really sensitive information and that kinda thing,” she waved a hand in demonstration, “and the girl who set it up has gone missing and their only go-to guy with half a clue is at DragonCon and is totally incommunicado. By the way - are there any reports up yet?” She listened for a moment, then giggled.
“Oh I knew he’d make a fool of himself - it’s just typical, isn’t it? Anyway, I think it might be some super virus or other that’s infected the system and I remembered how you’d been working on that special programme of yours... yes, exactly. Could you send that to me pretty please, and I’ll see what I can do?”
Turning her head, she looked around. “Does anyone have a laptop that’s not infected that I could borrow? That would be super!”
After a moment one of the slayers brought one, but weird-Illyria was now laughing at something the guy at the other end of the line had said.
“Oh no, not telling you that. Told you I am in Secret Ops and you’ll never find me.”
She tilted her head, listening, and then smiled secretively. “Hey - you know I’m not just a genius Marty - I’m divine! Anyway, thank you so, so much, it really would have taken forever to work this out all by myself. Would love to chat, but I better get on with fixing this and anyway this isn’t my cell - bye!”
Flicking open the laptop she began typing, and then began quickly swapping back and forth between the main console and the laptop, now and again relocating some cables, muttering to herself. Everyone just observed silently, unsure what to do. Spike however had wrapped his arms around himself defensively, a black shadow with such a haunted expression that Buffy wanted to shake him as his eyes followed ‘Coco’ as though hypnotised.
Then suddenly the screens sprang back to life, a collective gasp rising from the audience.
Illyria stood up, closed her eyes for a moment, and then she was all leather-clad and otherworldly again. Turning those unsettling blue irises on Giles, she gave what might pass for a smile.
“Your prayer has been answered and a miracle achieved. You may pay me homage now in whichever way you see fit.”
Giles clearly didn’t know how to respond to this, looking rather flummoxed, but as he began to speak, Spike suddenly moved.
In a flash his fist connected with Illyria’s chin, sending her sprawling to the floor. She looked up, face murderous, but he clearly wasn’t bothered, as he started yelling.
“Don’t you fucking dare do that again! Ever! Do you hear me?”
For a long moment Illyria stared at him in silence, and Buffy thought that they were probably all waiting for her to begin eviscerating him.
Instead she slowly tilted her head, studying him.
“You grieve for her still?”
Spike made a sound that sounded like strangled laughter, face a mosaic of conflicting emotions.
“Of course I still grieve for her. I will always grieve for her. You destroyed her - burnt up everything she ever was, leaving only the shell you’re wearing. That shadow you can put on is less than nothing. So Do. Not. Do. It. Again. Understood!”
The god was carefully standing up, a dangerous looking gleam in her eyes as she stepped closer.
“You wish you could have saved her. After all this time, after everything I do for you - still you wish for her.”
Spike met her eyes and smiled cruelly. “Hurts, does it? But you’re wrong. I don’t want her. Too late for that. You want to know what I wish? I wish she had died before you got to her. Hell I’d have snapped her neck myself if I’d known-”
He swallowed painfully, then looked her straight in the eye, deadly serious. “Killing her? That guilt I could have lived with. What you did - that will always haunt me.”
Suddenly he looked around, apparently registering their audience for the first time. He shook his head. “I can’t-”
Abruptly he turned on his heel and walked off. Buffy ran after him, catching him in the doorway, but he just shook his head again.
“Sorry Love, but... I just... just need some time alone, OK?”
She nodded mutely and then watched him disappear down the hallway.
For a moment she considered what to do, but then walked the opposite way, towards the bedroom they always kept ready for her. Not that she thought she’d be able to sleep - despite having been up for nearly 24 hours now - but she too needed some space to herself.
Why was it so difficult, she thought as she closed the door behind her and leaned against it tiredly.
She’d determinedly made an effort to talk more, to involve him in her life again, to find out about his life... And yet there were still giant swathes of stuff that were just a closed book, as today had so amply illustrated. What exactly had Fred meant to him? What had happened in that year he’d spent with Angel at Wolfram and Hart? He’d given her the basic outline of course, but there was so much she didn’t know, and he refused to talk.
Slowly she walked over to the window and looked out, taking in the bright late summer day outside. It seemed ridiculous that the weather could be so beautiful. London was supposed to be full of fog and rain, wasn’t it? Perfect for brooding and being miserable...
Sitting down on the bed she sighed and admitted to herself that the problem wasn’t just her or Spike... it was the third person in their relationship: Angel. He was her past, but Spike’s present - and she knew that a lot of Spike’s silence was due to the other vampire. They all tiptoed around the issue, pretending that they were all OK with it - which they were. Sort of. But the way all their individual histories were intertwined made everything complicated and she didn’t know how to approach it. If only she could find some way in... some way of uncovering something of all the stuff the two vampires never talked about - like Fred.
She couldn’t remember the last time he’d lost it like that... and she didn’t know what to do or how to deal with him.
At least the computer systems were up and running again. Although the fact that this was the most cheering thing she could think of was depressing in itself. There was still the apocalypse hanging over them, which really made her boyfriend trouble seem somewhat insignificant. She picked up the photo on the bedside table - the only personal item in the whole room, except for a few pieces of spare clothing in the wardrobe. It was one of those she’d taken during that first week when he’d arrived in Rome, and everything had been a bright and amazing whirlwind. And now... it felt like someone had pressed ‘pause’. She’d done what she could, but he still felt out of reach. Beautiful and smiling, like in the photo, and yet remote. Hidden behind glass.
A soft knock on the door tore her out of her thoughts, and a moment later it opened and Spike entered, an apologetic look on his face.
“Hey,” he said, closing the door behind him, and she smiled a little.
“Hey. How did you find me? Giles tell you where my room was?”
He shook his head. “Followed your scent.”
She nodded; and seeing that he still looked uncertain she patted the bed. “Come sit down. Unless you think the floor looks comfier...”
They really ought to get some better beds she thought - but then Giles would start talking about finances again, and that was a talk she could do without.
As he sat down, he shot her a rather shy look. “Sorry about-” he waved his hand in an attempt to describe what had happened, and she nodded.
“It’s OK... but you’re going to have to tell me what the deal is. You said that you’d have killed Fred yourself if you’d known what Illyria would do... what did she do?”
He sat still for a while, then quietly explained. “When Illyria rose, she... she burned up Fred’s soul. No heaven, or even hell, for her. Just - nothing. She’s gone. Completely.”
“Oh my god...” Buffy whispered, as she grasped why this tragedy had caused such a change.
“She was so sweet,” he continued, voice soft. “So kind and generous and friendly... An’ still she was as tough as nails. Survived five years in a hell dimension all by herself. If anyone ever deserved a happy ending...”
Silently Buffy took his hand and Spike let his head fall on her shoulder.
“Did you know that there’s a hole in the world? Goes right through. Not far from here, actually - it’s in the Cotswolds.”
And he’d done it again - changed the subject just when she’d finally gotten him to open up. Not that she didn’t understand it, but it made her so very frustrated.
Sighing deeply he let himself fall back onto the bed, before visibly wincing.
“Wait - are you hurt?” She made a motion towards his coat, but he waved her hand away.
“S nothing much - just flesh wounds. Last dimension we were in really didn’t like visitors. Think their arrows might have been poisoned, ‘cause it’s taking much longer to heal than it ought.”
“Arrows?” she asked, carefully laying a worried hand on his chest, and he smiled. “Don’t worry pet, our armour hasn’t let us down yet. Even got some old warlock to add some protection charms to it.”
Lifting a foot he studied his boots with mock tragedy written on his face.
“Wish he could’ve somehow fixed my boots too - this must be the third pair I’ve worn down. I can’t tell you how bloody boring it is to walk everywhere...” He turned his head a little and caught her eyes. “You know when we were at Wolfram and Hart Angel had a carpool with 12 cars. Nearly enough to make a man sell his soul, take my word... Wish I could have taken you out in the Viper - although the Camaro was very cool too - totally Nightrider. It was Charlie who knew about it of course - dunno how his head didn’t split open with all the info they crammed in...”
Buffy sat very, very still, listening. He so very rarely talked about his year in LA, that it might as well not have happened. And yet she knew that a lot of crucial things had happened to him there, but she only had the bare outlines, never any details. What had these friends been like? His eyes were calm and quiet now, his face relaxed. She wanted to follow the line of his cheekbone with her finger, to run her hands through his hair - a bit straggly and with roots showing as was usually the way when he’d been away. But the coat around him was the same as ever, if looking a bit dirty and with a few cuts here and there.
Then there was a knock at the door, and she tried not to grumble. He was finally talking, and now he got cut short again.
“Come in,” she called out, and a very new Slayer stuck her head around the door. Buffy didn’t remember her name, but the girl couldn’t be more than 15. Had she herself really been that young when she started out? Just a child...
Oh God, how could she fight an apocalypse leading children to their death?
“Mr Giles asked me to tell you that there’ll be a meeting in a few minutes...” it was possible that there was more to the message, but the girl had spied Spike and was doing her best to pretend that she wasn’t staring.
“Thank you,” Buffy replied, making sure the girl understood that this was her cue to leave, and after one last lingering glance the girl disappeared.
A little later Buffy was back in the main meeting room, where she discovered that a lot more slayers had arrived. Faith instantly spied her, and rushed over, a big grin on her face.
“B! How are you doing? I see you brought the eye candy this time!”
Smilingly she checked out Spike who smirked back.
“Good to see you too Faith.”
Buffy tried her very best not to glare. One of the biggest (and most welcome) surprises that the apocalypse had brought, had been the realisation that she could get along with Faith - even enjoy her company. It’d never be as it had once been, but maybe that was good... their intense bonding had been very exclusive. No, the key apparently was not to have Faith a part of her daily life - flirting with her boyfriends to choose a random example - but as an ally, or co-leader, or something. Someone she trusted, someone she could bounce ideas off and who didn’t hold back on the criticism, because she knew exactly what it was like out there.
“Hey,” she replied, quickly scanning the rest of the people in the room. “Where’s Kennedy?”
“She went to put our stuff away.”
Buffy bit her lip. “How - how is she doing?”
There was a moment’s pause as Faith considered. “Better. She’s still kinda hyper-cautious when it comes to civilians and triple kills everything, but I think she’s startin’ to begin to accept that maybe it wasn’t her fault. That probably this Beast thing would just have killed her too.”
Buffy nodded, relieved. It had been a strange role reversal - usually Faith took the dangerous girls, and Buffy the grieving or damaged ones, but Buffy hadn’t been able to face the pain in Kennedy’s eyes, the self-blame that the other Slayer carried around. So, much to Buffy’s relief, Faith had scooped her up as her latest travel companion.
The door opened again, this time revealing Wood and Kennedy, chatting amicably. But Wood looked up, and seeing Spike his eyes grew cold. Rather curtly he left Kennedy to talk to Giles, and Buffy turned to Spike wondering what to say and found Spike studying the other man musingly.
“Do you think he’d be pleased or pissed off if he knew that I’m no longer wearing the old coat?”
The implications of his words took a moment to sink in, and then her eyes widened.
“What?”
“Do you think he’d be pleased or pissed off? Probably pissed off I guess...”
“No, I heard you but - that’s a new coat?”
He turned to her, nodding. “The old one got blown up a few years ago... thanks to- well nevermind.”
“It’s a new coat and you never told me?”
He suddenly seemed to realise what she was saying and looked a little put out. “Are you sure? I think I told you... no, wait... does it matter?”
She stared at him, almost speechless. “Of course it matters. This is what I mean! You don’t talk! You never say. You never-”
She was interrupted by Giles addressing them all.
“Excuse me - but I think we are as many as we will be for now. If you could all make your way to the table, we have... a lot of things to talk through.”
She sighed deeply, and then realised that Spike had pulled out his cellphone.
“Look - you’re going to be busy, and I’m only distracting you. And you’ve got plenty of people you can rely on here. I’ll call you when I’m back next and we’ll do something proper, OK? Promise.”
He kissed her quickly and then left, phone already to his ear.
Heart sinking she walked over to the table and took her place. She knew he was right, but she still vowed to get him to talk - one way or another. She’d thought that they were... well good at communicating. Or better at least. And they were - she could read him like a book. Except where he’d glued the pages together.
And for now she had plenty to occupy her...
***
“Angel!”
Spike looked up, and saw a large group of demons slowly surrounding them - the leader only having eyes for Angel. And if Spike knew anything, he knew hatred and the glee of capturing an enemy. He turned to look at Angel, and clearly saw ‘oh fuck!’ painted all over his face.
As if the day hadn’t been difficult enough already.
What had been intended as a quick, pleasant visit to Buffy, had turned painful in other ways: Mostly of course Illyria with her Fred-impression, which still hurt almost too much to think about. He’d been so close to reaching out to touch her, to feel the reality of the lie... to beg her never to change back.
And what with losing it so badly, Buffy had again wanted him to talk to about that whole side of things, which was the last thing he wanted. What was there to say? Fred was gone - gone forever, gone for good, far more lost than even Willow. The acute loss had again made him wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t died... would Angel still have gone with his suicide plan or would they still be at W&H? Would... no, it didn’t do to dwell on it.
His wounds were still aching, he felt useless at not being able to help Buffy in any way with her apocalypse, and finally, when he got back to Angel, he’d had to relate the Illyria-incident, which had led to a prolonged attempted third degree of the Goddess, trying to establish the extent of her double-life, and of course she’d been extremely unhelpful, refusing to explain a single thing. All of which had led to them not taking note of their surroundings and walking straight into this trap, and now being surrounded by demons who obviously held a grudge against Angel.
Slowly drawing his sword, Spike looked around. “Tell me Peaches, what exactly did you do to piss off these guys?”
Angel, own sword in hand, grimaced. “Well one of their princesses brought girls to our dimension to save them from being... mutilated. I helped her, and told that guy there to go back home.”
“And why are you now here, Angel?” the leader asked, smiling haughtily. “You should know better than to come to Oden Tal. I took my war from your soil, as you asked, so please explain: Why are you here? You cannot win - no matter what Jheira has promised you.”
“Look,” Angel was using his best calming voice, which probably wouldn’t work very well, Spike thought, seeing the sneer on the other’s face. “I didn’t come to fight. I didn’t know that this was your dimension, honestly. I haven’t seen Jheira in... years. Just let me go, and I promise I’ll not come back and try to overthrow your society, or whatever you’re worried about.”
The demon eyed him for a moment, then laughed. “A good try, but not good enough, vampire. Guards - take them!”
As the demons fell on them, Spike couldn’t help laughing. Finally things were looking up. “Tell me Angel,” he asked, as he smoothly avoided a deadly blow to his skull, “just how drop-dead gorgeous was she?”
“That’s... beside the point,” Angel answered, as he grimly punched a thickset, bullish demon, “what they do to their women in this dimension is unforgivable.”
Spike grinned. She must have been quite something, this Jheira. Then he heard Angel asking Illyria to get them out, and sighed. Overturning a society would have been fun, but that wasn’t their job. Christ, he was tired of leaving the good fight behind again and again.
As he leapt through the portal he felt an arrow pierce his shoulder, and angrily pulled it out as the cries of frustration from the other world abruptly disappeared.
Then he looked around, taking in the surroundings.
“Oh,” he said, surprised, and smiled.
Chapter 19 on LJ
Chapter 19 on DW
First chapter & notes here (on LJ), for DW just follow the tags, and Master post of whole 'verse here (also tagged on DW).
Can also be found on AO3.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: Teen. (Same warnings as the show basically.)
Characters: Spike, Angel, Illyria, Buffy, Scoobies + cameos from more or less everyone in the 'verse.
Main Ships: Spike/Buffy, Angel/Nina
Feedback: Is bloody ambrosia! (The secret ingredient is otter...)
Word count (this chapter): 5000 words approx.
Setting and Summary: As before. (Post-NFA epic quest thing.)
Beta: The ever wonderful
kathyhSeptember 2005
“Buffy - you’re finally here! Thank goodness!”
Giles tried his best to infuse his voice with warmth as well as relief, but considering the news he was about to impart he found it hard to appear jolly. Not that he wasn’t pleased to see her - he always was - but in the circumstances...
“So... what is it?” she asked, throwing down her always-ready-to-go essentials bag beside the door before taking a seat. He could tell that she was weary and somewhat annoyed at being summoned, not having been home for a good while when he called her, but he really had needed to see her in person.
Tiredly he ran a hand through his hair, and resisted the urge to sit down. He’d done far too much sitting these last few weeks, poring over old scrolls and books.
“Well - we’ve had a breakthrough in the translations.”
“And?”
Always so to the point, he thought. Always taking every hit straight on the chin. And even with all the travelling she still managed to look good - how she found time to shop he didn’t know, but he was sure her wardrobe was truly international now. A thoroughly modern, well-dressed and competent young woman, his Buffy. Sighing he forced his thoughts back to the matter at hand. She was also a warrior.
“We have discovered that this apocalypse is the work of Talnor, Master of all Beasts. A... mythical figure it was thought - from outside our dimension of course.”
She nodded, obviously wondering what the bad news was. A name didn’t merit her being there in person.
“So - he’s the guy who’ll show up in November?”
Giles nodded, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. The ancient text danced behind his eyelids for a moment, then he met Buffy’s eyes.
“It’s not that simple... He will be leading an army of - of beasts. It is hard to find a description, or any sort of indication of how large this army is.”
”An army... of beasts?” He could hear the incredulous note in her voice, but she probably couldn’t help it.
“I’m afraid so. He... controls them, so they all work together. It is - a challenge I am not sure how to classify.”
“Challenge? Challenge? How - how are we supposed to fight an army of beasts with better co-ordination that us? How do we train for this? Can we train for this? I mean...” she threw her hands up, “I can’t just kidnap a few lions to use for practice, can I?”
He tried his best not wince at her words, and manfully refrained from telling her that he was only the messenger. Then he saw her taking a deep breath to calm down.
“Sorry Giles... I just...”
He nodded. “However - I’m afraid it’s not even that simple, Buffy.”
“No?” The exhaustion that had been lying just under the surface suddenly seemed to settle on her in earnest, and he dearly wished to just reach out and give her a hug. But that wasn’t an option just now. He sighed.
“If... it is an ‘if’, but there is the possibility, given the particular word choice in one of the texts-”
“What is it?” Tired she might be, but she still couldn’t stand waffle.
“Well, there is the possibility that he will also be able to control any animal in this dimension also.”
She stared at him for a long moment as the implications sank in.
“OK - we’re screwed.”
“Buffy...”
He could feel the memories of similar moments crowding in on them - the part where he was just the one to locate the danger, but she was the one who had to go and fight - put her life on the line while all he could do was watch. Of course there were so many of them now... so many girls who would go out and fight and never come back.
Slowly she raised her head, taking on this newest burden.
“I know how it goes Giles. We’ll figure something out - as usual. I presume all the wiccas are busy working on figuring out if anything magical can stop him?”
He nodded and was silently grateful that at least they still had four months to prepare... if they could work out how to prepare.
“Anything else?” she asked, and he shrugged. “We had some form of rodent infestation that chewed on all our back-up files and disks, but I’ve got a team working on making new ones. It’ll take a while, but it’s nothing to be worried about.”
She stared at him, sudden alarm in her eyes, and he frowned. “What?”
“Oh my God - you just totally jinxed it!”
When the door burst open two seconds later she clearly felt like shaking her finger at him and saying ‘What did I say?’ even before the young Slayer confirmed her prophetic words.
“Mr Giles? It’s the computers!”
He stared at the girl in mute horror.
“Spike.”
Giles never looked pleased to see Spike, but this time the antipathy was almost palpable, even though Giles was clearly trying his best to be civil. It really was the most unfortunate timing, Buffy thought to herself, but it couldn’t be helped. She could of course send Spike away again, but it had been weeks since she’d seen him, and what with the latest news she really needed him to just be there. He was her drop-dead gorgeous vampire boyfriend, and she had every right to have him by her side. And this was exactly the sort of thing she should be doing - involving him in her life and making sure he got along with her friends. And Angel had gone to spend time with his girlfriend…
“So, Buffy tells me you’re havin’ some problems with your databases, Rupert,” Spike drawled, and Buffy could see Giles’ inner anger-o-meter go up a few notches.
“A few-” he shook his head, and waved a hand towards the wall of computer screens, all of which displayed varying degrees of gobbledygook. “Everything is down. It’s dead! A - a virus or bacteria - whatever these things are called - has destroyed the whole thing!”
Spike looked around at the computers and the excessive wiring - all of which Illyria was studying like she’d found a particularly interesting insect. He also took in the techno-savvy Slayers, the two Watchers and a Wicca, all of whom looked fed-up and giving-up, and shrugged. “Hardly the end of the world though, is it? I mean - that’s still like half a year off, right?”
“Please,” Buffy said, putting a hand on his arm, “don’t be obnoxious.”
“I’m obnoxious?” he asked, and she nodded. “You’re always obnoxious when you’ve spent time with Angel. Obnoxious or broody.”
“Oh, but - but that’s not my fault, is it? He just brings out the worst in me! Also, how bad can this be?”
Buffy sighed, resignedly, and Giles took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself. “Spike - you don’t understand. This was where we stored all the information about all the Slayers. Every profile, every contact address, every status report, everything we’ve done this past two years... and I don’t know if we can get it back. I never trusted all this technology, but Willow...” he dragged a tired hand across his face, “Willow set it all up, saying it was safe as houses, and I’m not sure if anyone else can ever hope to figure it out. Our experts here have tried their best, but it’s not doing any good. Andrew - who is our last hope, as ridiculous as that might sound - is away at some convention or other in America and... unreachable. And we can - for obvious reasons - not ask for outside help. If I were a religious man, I would pray for a miracle, but...”
His voice trailed off, and Buffy could tell that Spike was trying his hardest to look sympathetic. Then suddenly Illyria materialised in front of them.
“Phone,” she demanded, holding out her hand, and Spike frowned.
“What?”
“Phone.”
Looking puzzled Spike pulled out his cell from his pocket, and Illyria plucked it out of his hand. Swiftly typing in a number with one hand she walked over to the main console, grabbed a chair and sat down, whilst at the same time something strange seemed to be happening to her face and body.
As they could faintly hear the phone start to ring, Buffy involuntarily gasped. On the chair now sat a pretty young girl, dressed in a white top and blue jeans and with soft brown hair caressing her shoulders.
“Hi Marty,” she smiled as someone picked up, “it’s Coco. Can I ask a you a favour?”
Looking around, Buffy saw that the other girls looked as stunned as she felt. Of course she knew that Illyria’s body had once belonged to one of Spike and Angel’s friends, but she hadn’t known that she could change like that. With a small frown she realised that Giles didn’t look surprised, just grim - yet another thing that he’d known about, and she not.
Turning to glance at Spike, she saw that he looked ready to faint, having turned whiter than she thought possible. His eyes were full of pain - more than she had seen for a long, long time. He had looked the same way when he’d begged her to kill him.
Gently she put a hand on his arm, and he almost startled.
“Why ‘Coco’? Do you know?” she asked, trying to get him to come out of the walls that were surrounding him, and he swallowed.
“When... when we play ‘Crash Bandicoot’ I am Crash and she is Coco... the brainy, ass-kicking sister...”
His voice trailed off, as Illyria chatted away, sounding so un-Illyria like that it was downright creepy.
“...See I have some friends who have this huge enormous system that’s crashed, full of really sensitive information and that kinda thing,” she waved a hand in demonstration, “and the girl who set it up has gone missing and their only go-to guy with half a clue is at DragonCon and is totally incommunicado. By the way - are there any reports up yet?” She listened for a moment, then giggled.
“Oh I knew he’d make a fool of himself - it’s just typical, isn’t it? Anyway, I think it might be some super virus or other that’s infected the system and I remembered how you’d been working on that special programme of yours... yes, exactly. Could you send that to me pretty please, and I’ll see what I can do?”
Turning her head, she looked around. “Does anyone have a laptop that’s not infected that I could borrow? That would be super!”
After a moment one of the slayers brought one, but weird-Illyria was now laughing at something the guy at the other end of the line had said.
“Oh no, not telling you that. Told you I am in Secret Ops and you’ll never find me.”
She tilted her head, listening, and then smiled secretively. “Hey - you know I’m not just a genius Marty - I’m divine! Anyway, thank you so, so much, it really would have taken forever to work this out all by myself. Would love to chat, but I better get on with fixing this and anyway this isn’t my cell - bye!”
Flicking open the laptop she began typing, and then began quickly swapping back and forth between the main console and the laptop, now and again relocating some cables, muttering to herself. Everyone just observed silently, unsure what to do. Spike however had wrapped his arms around himself defensively, a black shadow with such a haunted expression that Buffy wanted to shake him as his eyes followed ‘Coco’ as though hypnotised.
Then suddenly the screens sprang back to life, a collective gasp rising from the audience.
Illyria stood up, closed her eyes for a moment, and then she was all leather-clad and otherworldly again. Turning those unsettling blue irises on Giles, she gave what might pass for a smile.
“Your prayer has been answered and a miracle achieved. You may pay me homage now in whichever way you see fit.”
Giles clearly didn’t know how to respond to this, looking rather flummoxed, but as he began to speak, Spike suddenly moved.
In a flash his fist connected with Illyria’s chin, sending her sprawling to the floor. She looked up, face murderous, but he clearly wasn’t bothered, as he started yelling.
“Don’t you fucking dare do that again! Ever! Do you hear me?”
For a long moment Illyria stared at him in silence, and Buffy thought that they were probably all waiting for her to begin eviscerating him.
Instead she slowly tilted her head, studying him.
“You grieve for her still?”
Spike made a sound that sounded like strangled laughter, face a mosaic of conflicting emotions.
“Of course I still grieve for her. I will always grieve for her. You destroyed her - burnt up everything she ever was, leaving only the shell you’re wearing. That shadow you can put on is less than nothing. So Do. Not. Do. It. Again. Understood!”
The god was carefully standing up, a dangerous looking gleam in her eyes as she stepped closer.
“You wish you could have saved her. After all this time, after everything I do for you - still you wish for her.”
Spike met her eyes and smiled cruelly. “Hurts, does it? But you’re wrong. I don’t want her. Too late for that. You want to know what I wish? I wish she had died before you got to her. Hell I’d have snapped her neck myself if I’d known-”
He swallowed painfully, then looked her straight in the eye, deadly serious. “Killing her? That guilt I could have lived with. What you did - that will always haunt me.”
Suddenly he looked around, apparently registering their audience for the first time. He shook his head. “I can’t-”
Abruptly he turned on his heel and walked off. Buffy ran after him, catching him in the doorway, but he just shook his head again.
“Sorry Love, but... I just... just need some time alone, OK?”
She nodded mutely and then watched him disappear down the hallway.
For a moment she considered what to do, but then walked the opposite way, towards the bedroom they always kept ready for her. Not that she thought she’d be able to sleep - despite having been up for nearly 24 hours now - but she too needed some space to herself.
Why was it so difficult, she thought as she closed the door behind her and leaned against it tiredly.
She’d determinedly made an effort to talk more, to involve him in her life again, to find out about his life... And yet there were still giant swathes of stuff that were just a closed book, as today had so amply illustrated. What exactly had Fred meant to him? What had happened in that year he’d spent with Angel at Wolfram and Hart? He’d given her the basic outline of course, but there was so much she didn’t know, and he refused to talk.
Slowly she walked over to the window and looked out, taking in the bright late summer day outside. It seemed ridiculous that the weather could be so beautiful. London was supposed to be full of fog and rain, wasn’t it? Perfect for brooding and being miserable...
Sitting down on the bed she sighed and admitted to herself that the problem wasn’t just her or Spike... it was the third person in their relationship: Angel. He was her past, but Spike’s present - and she knew that a lot of Spike’s silence was due to the other vampire. They all tiptoed around the issue, pretending that they were all OK with it - which they were. Sort of. But the way all their individual histories were intertwined made everything complicated and she didn’t know how to approach it. If only she could find some way in... some way of uncovering something of all the stuff the two vampires never talked about - like Fred.
She couldn’t remember the last time he’d lost it like that... and she didn’t know what to do or how to deal with him.
At least the computer systems were up and running again. Although the fact that this was the most cheering thing she could think of was depressing in itself. There was still the apocalypse hanging over them, which really made her boyfriend trouble seem somewhat insignificant. She picked up the photo on the bedside table - the only personal item in the whole room, except for a few pieces of spare clothing in the wardrobe. It was one of those she’d taken during that first week when he’d arrived in Rome, and everything had been a bright and amazing whirlwind. And now... it felt like someone had pressed ‘pause’. She’d done what she could, but he still felt out of reach. Beautiful and smiling, like in the photo, and yet remote. Hidden behind glass.
A soft knock on the door tore her out of her thoughts, and a moment later it opened and Spike entered, an apologetic look on his face.
“Hey,” he said, closing the door behind him, and she smiled a little.
“Hey. How did you find me? Giles tell you where my room was?”
He shook his head. “Followed your scent.”
She nodded; and seeing that he still looked uncertain she patted the bed. “Come sit down. Unless you think the floor looks comfier...”
They really ought to get some better beds she thought - but then Giles would start talking about finances again, and that was a talk she could do without.
As he sat down, he shot her a rather shy look. “Sorry about-” he waved his hand in an attempt to describe what had happened, and she nodded.
“It’s OK... but you’re going to have to tell me what the deal is. You said that you’d have killed Fred yourself if you’d known what Illyria would do... what did she do?”
He sat still for a while, then quietly explained. “When Illyria rose, she... she burned up Fred’s soul. No heaven, or even hell, for her. Just - nothing. She’s gone. Completely.”
“Oh my god...” Buffy whispered, as she grasped why this tragedy had caused such a change.
“She was so sweet,” he continued, voice soft. “So kind and generous and friendly... An’ still she was as tough as nails. Survived five years in a hell dimension all by herself. If anyone ever deserved a happy ending...”
Silently Buffy took his hand and Spike let his head fall on her shoulder.
“Did you know that there’s a hole in the world? Goes right through. Not far from here, actually - it’s in the Cotswolds.”
And he’d done it again - changed the subject just when she’d finally gotten him to open up. Not that she didn’t understand it, but it made her so very frustrated.
Sighing deeply he let himself fall back onto the bed, before visibly wincing.
“Wait - are you hurt?” She made a motion towards his coat, but he waved her hand away.
“S nothing much - just flesh wounds. Last dimension we were in really didn’t like visitors. Think their arrows might have been poisoned, ‘cause it’s taking much longer to heal than it ought.”
“Arrows?” she asked, carefully laying a worried hand on his chest, and he smiled. “Don’t worry pet, our armour hasn’t let us down yet. Even got some old warlock to add some protection charms to it.”
Lifting a foot he studied his boots with mock tragedy written on his face.
“Wish he could’ve somehow fixed my boots too - this must be the third pair I’ve worn down. I can’t tell you how bloody boring it is to walk everywhere...” He turned his head a little and caught her eyes. “You know when we were at Wolfram and Hart Angel had a carpool with 12 cars. Nearly enough to make a man sell his soul, take my word... Wish I could have taken you out in the Viper - although the Camaro was very cool too - totally Nightrider. It was Charlie who knew about it of course - dunno how his head didn’t split open with all the info they crammed in...”
Buffy sat very, very still, listening. He so very rarely talked about his year in LA, that it might as well not have happened. And yet she knew that a lot of crucial things had happened to him there, but she only had the bare outlines, never any details. What had these friends been like? His eyes were calm and quiet now, his face relaxed. She wanted to follow the line of his cheekbone with her finger, to run her hands through his hair - a bit straggly and with roots showing as was usually the way when he’d been away. But the coat around him was the same as ever, if looking a bit dirty and with a few cuts here and there.
Then there was a knock at the door, and she tried not to grumble. He was finally talking, and now he got cut short again.
“Come in,” she called out, and a very new Slayer stuck her head around the door. Buffy didn’t remember her name, but the girl couldn’t be more than 15. Had she herself really been that young when she started out? Just a child...
Oh God, how could she fight an apocalypse leading children to their death?
“Mr Giles asked me to tell you that there’ll be a meeting in a few minutes...” it was possible that there was more to the message, but the girl had spied Spike and was doing her best to pretend that she wasn’t staring.
“Thank you,” Buffy replied, making sure the girl understood that this was her cue to leave, and after one last lingering glance the girl disappeared.
A little later Buffy was back in the main meeting room, where she discovered that a lot more slayers had arrived. Faith instantly spied her, and rushed over, a big grin on her face.
“B! How are you doing? I see you brought the eye candy this time!”
Smilingly she checked out Spike who smirked back.
“Good to see you too Faith.”
Buffy tried her very best not to glare. One of the biggest (and most welcome) surprises that the apocalypse had brought, had been the realisation that she could get along with Faith - even enjoy her company. It’d never be as it had once been, but maybe that was good... their intense bonding had been very exclusive. No, the key apparently was not to have Faith a part of her daily life - flirting with her boyfriends to choose a random example - but as an ally, or co-leader, or something. Someone she trusted, someone she could bounce ideas off and who didn’t hold back on the criticism, because she knew exactly what it was like out there.
“Hey,” she replied, quickly scanning the rest of the people in the room. “Where’s Kennedy?”
“She went to put our stuff away.”
Buffy bit her lip. “How - how is she doing?”
There was a moment’s pause as Faith considered. “Better. She’s still kinda hyper-cautious when it comes to civilians and triple kills everything, but I think she’s startin’ to begin to accept that maybe it wasn’t her fault. That probably this Beast thing would just have killed her too.”
Buffy nodded, relieved. It had been a strange role reversal - usually Faith took the dangerous girls, and Buffy the grieving or damaged ones, but Buffy hadn’t been able to face the pain in Kennedy’s eyes, the self-blame that the other Slayer carried around. So, much to Buffy’s relief, Faith had scooped her up as her latest travel companion.
The door opened again, this time revealing Wood and Kennedy, chatting amicably. But Wood looked up, and seeing Spike his eyes grew cold. Rather curtly he left Kennedy to talk to Giles, and Buffy turned to Spike wondering what to say and found Spike studying the other man musingly.
“Do you think he’d be pleased or pissed off if he knew that I’m no longer wearing the old coat?”
The implications of his words took a moment to sink in, and then her eyes widened.
“What?”
“Do you think he’d be pleased or pissed off? Probably pissed off I guess...”
“No, I heard you but - that’s a new coat?”
He turned to her, nodding. “The old one got blown up a few years ago... thanks to- well nevermind.”
“It’s a new coat and you never told me?”
He suddenly seemed to realise what she was saying and looked a little put out. “Are you sure? I think I told you... no, wait... does it matter?”
She stared at him, almost speechless. “Of course it matters. This is what I mean! You don’t talk! You never say. You never-”
She was interrupted by Giles addressing them all.
“Excuse me - but I think we are as many as we will be for now. If you could all make your way to the table, we have... a lot of things to talk through.”
She sighed deeply, and then realised that Spike had pulled out his cellphone.
“Look - you’re going to be busy, and I’m only distracting you. And you’ve got plenty of people you can rely on here. I’ll call you when I’m back next and we’ll do something proper, OK? Promise.”
He kissed her quickly and then left, phone already to his ear.
Heart sinking she walked over to the table and took her place. She knew he was right, but she still vowed to get him to talk - one way or another. She’d thought that they were... well good at communicating. Or better at least. And they were - she could read him like a book. Except where he’d glued the pages together.
And for now she had plenty to occupy her...
“Angel!”
Spike looked up, and saw a large group of demons slowly surrounding them - the leader only having eyes for Angel. And if Spike knew anything, he knew hatred and the glee of capturing an enemy. He turned to look at Angel, and clearly saw ‘oh fuck!’ painted all over his face.
As if the day hadn’t been difficult enough already.
What had been intended as a quick, pleasant visit to Buffy, had turned painful in other ways: Mostly of course Illyria with her Fred-impression, which still hurt almost too much to think about. He’d been so close to reaching out to touch her, to feel the reality of the lie... to beg her never to change back.
And what with losing it so badly, Buffy had again wanted him to talk to about that whole side of things, which was the last thing he wanted. What was there to say? Fred was gone - gone forever, gone for good, far more lost than even Willow. The acute loss had again made him wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t died... would Angel still have gone with his suicide plan or would they still be at W&H? Would... no, it didn’t do to dwell on it.
His wounds were still aching, he felt useless at not being able to help Buffy in any way with her apocalypse, and finally, when he got back to Angel, he’d had to relate the Illyria-incident, which had led to a prolonged attempted third degree of the Goddess, trying to establish the extent of her double-life, and of course she’d been extremely unhelpful, refusing to explain a single thing. All of which had led to them not taking note of their surroundings and walking straight into this trap, and now being surrounded by demons who obviously held a grudge against Angel.
Slowly drawing his sword, Spike looked around. “Tell me Peaches, what exactly did you do to piss off these guys?”
Angel, own sword in hand, grimaced. “Well one of their princesses brought girls to our dimension to save them from being... mutilated. I helped her, and told that guy there to go back home.”
“And why are you now here, Angel?” the leader asked, smiling haughtily. “You should know better than to come to Oden Tal. I took my war from your soil, as you asked, so please explain: Why are you here? You cannot win - no matter what Jheira has promised you.”
“Look,” Angel was using his best calming voice, which probably wouldn’t work very well, Spike thought, seeing the sneer on the other’s face. “I didn’t come to fight. I didn’t know that this was your dimension, honestly. I haven’t seen Jheira in... years. Just let me go, and I promise I’ll not come back and try to overthrow your society, or whatever you’re worried about.”
The demon eyed him for a moment, then laughed. “A good try, but not good enough, vampire. Guards - take them!”
As the demons fell on them, Spike couldn’t help laughing. Finally things were looking up. “Tell me Angel,” he asked, as he smoothly avoided a deadly blow to his skull, “just how drop-dead gorgeous was she?”
“That’s... beside the point,” Angel answered, as he grimly punched a thickset, bullish demon, “what they do to their women in this dimension is unforgivable.”
Spike grinned. She must have been quite something, this Jheira. Then he heard Angel asking Illyria to get them out, and sighed. Overturning a society would have been fun, but that wasn’t their job. Christ, he was tired of leaving the good fight behind again and again.
As he leapt through the portal he felt an arrow pierce his shoulder, and angrily pulled it out as the cries of frustration from the other world abruptly disappeared.
Then he looked around, taking in the surroundings.
“Oh,” he said, surprised, and smiled.
Chapter 19 on LJ
Chapter 19 on DW
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Anyway, I like that Buffy is interested in being interested in Spike's life, but I'm not sure her task-based approach (find out what happened the year before) is the most helpful way to go about supporting him. You have to let your partner tell their story in their own time, right? And even so, you'll never know all there is to know. She's trying, though.
I am very cross at where to ended this chapter. Heh. Oh well. More to look forward to!
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He has within this verse (in The Summer After, prior to Maybe Someday), when they had Illyria appear as Fred to make a point to others. However that - for him - was a long time ago, many years, and this was not planned but quite the opposite... So yeah, not a good thing at all for him, poor guy. (Why do I like to make them suffer? I must be a bad person.)
Can I say that this little peek at Fred is making me nostalgic for Lorne? It is. I don't know if he would fit anywhere in this plot, and I know he's laying low, but it just seems like a demon like that would have trouble hiding his light under a bushel for long.
I MISS HIM TOO. I can't (currently) fit him in anywhere, but I might see if I can squeeze him in, somehow... I just like him.
Anyway, I like that Buffy is interested in being interested in Spike's life, but I'm not sure her task-based approach (find out what happened the year before) is the most helpful way to go about supporting him.
She just feels like she knew him as much as it was possible to know someone and then there was a gap, and now she's not quite sure. Blaming that year is possibly easier than delving down into all the rest...
You have to let your partner tell their story in their own time, right? And even so, you'll never know all there is to know. She's trying, though.
She is. And it's not an easy situation. As I was saying to Kathy, it's been v interesting writing this, because the issues Buffy & Spike are experiencing just rose naturally out of the story, I wasn't trying to throw 'relationship issues' at them.
I am very cross at where to ended this chapter. Heh. Oh well. More to look forward to!
Heh. As it happens, that's where I stopped writing ten years ago... now you only have two weeks to wait!