Chapter 14
“’Tis true, ’tis day; what though it be?/O wilt thou therefore rise from me?/Why should we rise because ’tis light?/Did we lie down because ’twas night?/Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither,/Should in despite of light keep us together…Must business thee from hence remove?/O, that’s the worst disease of love./The poor, the foul, the false, love can/Admit, but not the busied man./He which hath business, and makes love, doth do/Such wrong, as when a married man doth woo.” ~John Donne, “Break of Day”
Buffy’s sense of wrongness only increased the following day. Not only did Giles not show up for study hall—a sure sign that hell was freezing over—but Mrs. Barton was acting like one of her students.
As weird as it was, though, Buffy wasn’t sure she ought to complain. After all, they had managed to get out of study hall early, and no Giles meant no training. And that meant lots of time to hang out with her friends.
Still, it was a Slayer’s duty to make sure her Watcher wasn’t dead or sick or possessed by an evil demon, so she headed over to Giles’ apartment right after Mrs. Barton released them for the day.
Her unease only increased when she found her mom there with him.
“Giles, where were you?” Buffy demanded. “You never pull no-shows. And why is my mom here?”
Joyce waved innocently. “Oh, hello, honey. How was your day?”
“Fine, but—”
“Your mother wanted to discuss your training with me,” Giles explained smoothly. “She’s concerned about how you’re doing, of course.”
Buffy frowned. It sounded perfectly logical.
Joyce smiled. “I’m just trying to get to know more about your life, sweetie.”
“Right,” Buffy replied. “So you’re hanging out with my Watcher?”
“We’ve been spending time together for a while now,” Giles replied. “Joyce wants to learn more about what the Slayer is and does.”
Buffy nodded slowly. Something was up. She knew something was up.
And then Joyce dangled the car keys in front of Buffy’s nose. “Why don’t you take the car?” she suggested. “Mr. Giles can drive me home.”
All thoughts of weirdness flew out of Buffy’s mind. She was seventeen, after all, and the opportunity to have the car pushed everything else aside. In fact, she was suddenly very much in a hurry to leave, just in case her mom changed her mind. “Okay! Thanks! Have fun!”
Giles and Joyce gave twin sighs of relief as the door closed behind Buffy. “Finally,” Giles muttered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up.
“Do you think she noticed anything?” Joyce asked, tipping a bottle back and taking a few quick swallows.
Giles smirked. “No way.”
~~~~~
Spike twisted around, looking at a passel of businessmen who were acting like monkeys. Or schoolboys just let loose for the summer holidays. All around him, there were adults running amok, acting like—like children.
“And not particularly well-behaved children, at that,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing. Amusement was warring with annoyance, and Spike wasn’t quite sure what he ought to be doing about the incipient chaos. Something was obviously going on, and things were beginning to get out of hand. People were out wandering the streets after dark, leaving themselves open to attack by enterprising vampires. He stood, undecided, for a few moments before heading towards the Bronze.
In a situation like this, Spike wasn’t certain that he needed to interfere, but he figured the Slayer would have more information. If Buffy wasn’t at the Bronze, he’d try to find her at home.
The Bronze was packed to the gills with people of all ages. Spike noticed that the majority of the people seemed to be older. The club was usually full of adolescents and college students, not their parents.
Spike spotted Oz coming out from the back. “Oz.”
“Hey, man,” the boy greeted him, his eyes taking in the scene.
“You know what’s going on?”
“I’d say they’re all acting like teenagers,” Oz observed. “It’s quite sobering.”
Spike snorted. “This isn’t normal, even for the Hellmouth.”
“Won’t argue with you there,” Oz replied, leading the way over to the spot where Willow and Buffy were taking in the sight of the town’s adults making out, dancing wildly, and drinking like frat boys.
“This is disturbing,” Willow said. “I don’t like this.”
Oz put a comforting hand on her arm. “It’s a little mixed up.”
“It’s more than a little mixed up,” Buffy commented, looking at Spike. “What about you? You’re not feeling the urge to start acting sixteen, are you?”
If Spike could have blushed, he probably would have. As it was, his expression was very sheepish. “Bloody hell, I hope not,” he replied. “I wouldn’t be any use at all.”
Buffy gave him a curious look, but Spike refused to meet her eyes. “Let’s get out of here. This place is giving me the wiggins.”
They were making their way out when a voice called out behind them, “Hey! Wait for me!”
“Who’s that?” Spike asked, glancing behind him to see a short, bald man frantically trying to follow them.
“Principal Snyder,” Willow explained.
Buffy grimaced. “That’s probably the creepiest thing I’ve seen tonight.”
“It explains a lot, though,” Oz observed.
The sound of “Louie, Louie” being tortured followed them out the door, and Spike winced. “Don’t think my ears could stand much more of that.”
“Right there with you,” Buffy replied. She took out the keys to her mom’s Jeep. “Okay—”
“No.”
The Slayer stared at Spike. “What?”
“You’re not driving. Give me the keys.”
“Spike, my mom—”
“Was probably operating under the same stupid spell or whatever it is that the rest of them are under,” Spike replied, holding out his hand for the keys. “If she’d been in her right mind, she wouldn’t have let you drive.”
“That’s so totally not fair!”
“Why don’t we let Spike drive?” Willow chirped. “He’s a really good driver.” At Buffy’s glare, Willow gulped. “Not that you aren’t.”
Buffy scowled but handed the keys to the vampire. “I can so drive.”
“If you can find a car to learn on, I’ll take you out driving,” Spike said. “But we’re doing it where you can’t kill yourself or anyone else.”
Buffy pouted. “Fine.”
“Where are we going?” Spike asked.
“Giles might know what’s going on,” Willow said hopefully.
Buffy frowned. “Unless he’s sweet sixteen again,” she replied, buckling up.
“Hey! I told you guys to wait up!” Snyder was standing outside the passenger window, glaring at them.
“Sorry, Snyder,” Buffy said sweetly. “No more room in the inn. Beat it.”
Spike took that as his signal to start driving, leaving Snyder in the dust. Oz took up the conversation where they’d left off. “Even if Giles is sixteen again, he’s still Giles, right?”
“Not exactly,” Buffy hedged.
“What?” Oz asked.
Buffy sighed. “When Giles was sixteen he was more Rebel Without a Cause.”
“Buffy, he’s with your mom,” Willow pointed out.
“Rupert and Joyce are together?” Spike asked, an eyebrow raised.
Buffy glared at him. “Don’t say it.”
“Wasn’t going to.”
Willow looked from one to the other from her spot in the backseat. “What?”
“Just saying that if you leave two teenagers alone together, things can happen,” Spike said.
Willow’s eyes widened. “Things?” she squeaked.
“Don’t go there!” Buffy ordered. “You’re going to damage me for life.”
Spike frowned and whipped the car around.
“What are you doing?” she demanded impatiently. “We need to get to Giles’ place.”
“Giles won’t be there,” Spike replied. “Look around, Slayer. Nobody’s at home. Everyone’s out on the streets.” He pulled over to the side of the street and parked. “Finding your Watcher isn’t going to do anyone any good. It looks like every adult in Sunnydale has been affected by this.”
Oz nodded slowly. “Spike’s right.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Buffy asked, an edge to her voice. “We can’t just sit around.”
“Not saying that we do,” Spike returned. “I’m thinking Red and Oz head to the library, find out what they can, while we try to locate the source.”
“How are you going to do that?” Willow asked. “We don’t even know where to start!”
Spike shrugged. “This sort of thing is always the same. You find out what changed in the last few days. There has to be some kind of catalyst.”
They looked out the windows of the car, watching a group of men ogle a couple of passing women. Every single one of them was munching on a chocolate bar.
“The chocolate,” Buffy said in sudden realization. “My mom and Giles!”
“My parents ate a ton of them, too,” Oz said.
Spike frowned. “Not to mention that there are no vampires out. Haven’t seen a single one tonight. That’s not typical, especially when you’ve got so many free meals walking around.”
“But where is the chocolate coming from?” Willow asked.
Buffy groaned. “Snyder would know.”
“We’ll drop you two off by the school, then find Snyder,” Spike said. He glanced at Buffy. “That sound good to you, Slayer?”
“Fine.”
~~~~~
Buffy was feeling rather relieved that Spike was the one driving by the time they made it back to the Bronze. It was only his quick reflexes that saved them from at least two accidents. Buffy was treated to some of Spike’s more colorful curses as he slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a car going through a stop sign.
Luckily, not only was Snyder still at the Bronze, but he knew where the chocolate bars were being manufactured. Spike followed Snyder’s directions, pulling up in front of the factory just in time to prevent Giles and Joyce from engaging in indecent exposure. “Mom! Giles!” Buffy hurried over to them and yanked them apart. “Spike, help me!”
Spike decided that laughing would probably be bad form, even though he was highly amused. “Later, mate,” he murmured to Giles, pulling him away slightly. “Wait till the Slayer doesn’t have her eye on you, yeah?”
Buffy, hearing Spike’s admonition, turned to stare at him. “Spike! Don’t encourage them.”
“Don’t think they need any encouragement, Slayer,” Spike pointed out.
She glared at him. “Help me keep them separated. We need to get inside and figure out who’s behind this.” Buffy turned her evil eye on Giles. “Are you going to help me or not?”
“Might be a bit of a rumble,” Spike pointed out.
Giles brightened up at that. “I like a good rumble.”
“Good man,” Spike said, clapping him on the shoulder and steering him inside the factory.
Buffy didn’t entirely approve of his tactics, but Spike was getting the job done. Giles seemed to be following him docilely enough. Joyce was whining about being interrupted, and Buffy wondered if that’s how she sounded to her mom sometimes.
It was a sobering thought.
Once inside the factory, it didn’t take them long to find Ethan Rayne, right in the middle of it all. Buffy wasn’t all that surprised. Between the three of them—Buffy, Spike and Giles—they soon managed to corner the magician, leaving Joyce and Snyder waiting at the entrance.
“What’s going on, Ethan?” Buffy demanded.
Giles sneered. “Hit him.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Spike said, his face shifting.
Ethan’s eyes got wide. “Buffy! You wouldn’t let me get eaten, would you? You’re one of the good guys.”
“Which seems to indicate that I kill the bad guys,” Buffy mused aloud. She sighed. “And Spike does have a tendency to get hungry when he’s kept waiting.”
Ethan held up his hands. “This wasn’t my idea!” he protested.
“What are you talking about?” Spike demanded, shaking him.
“It’s Trick you want!” Ethan said. “He just wanted a distraction so he could make a tribute to a demon.”
Giles glared at him. “He’s lying. Hit him!”
“I don’t think he is,” Buffy said. “Now be quiet. What demon, Ethan?”
Ethan shook his head. “I don’t remember.”
“Spike? Would you like a snack?” Buffy inquired sweetly.
Spike grinned, showing his teeth. “It would be my pleasure.”
His teeth were mere fractions of an inch from Ethan’s throat when the man blurted out, “Lurconis! The demon’s name is Lurconis!”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “You sodding bastard.”
Buffy stared at him. “What is it?”
“We need to blow this joint, Slayer,” Spike said. “I know what kind of a tribute this demon demands.”
Buffy turned to Giles. “Can I trust you to take care of Ethan without killing him?”
Giles’ chest puffed out. “’Course you can.”
Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother. Okay, Spike, let’s split.”
She marched off, but Spike spared a moment to grab Giles by the shirt. “Don’t let me find out you got distracted and let this prat go.”
“I can take care of it,” Giles responded indignantly.
Spike cocked an eyebrow, snorted, and then raced off after Buffy.
~~~~~
Spike ambled to the front door to answer the knock. He’d been sleeping for the last twelve hours, which wasn’t surprising, given the events of the day before. They’d been running around till nearly dawn, between hunting down Lurconis in the sewers and returning the infants to the maternity ward where they belonged.
Then they’d had to hunt down Giles and Joyce, who’d managed to get distracted after all. By the time Spike and Buffy had found them, Ethan was long gone.
Spike just wished he’d gotten a picture of Buffy’s face when they’d found her mom and Watcher. It was obvious to his senses what had been going on—all night, if he wasn’t mistaken—but Buffy insisted that she’d found them before they’d actually been able to do anything since they were both still clothed.
Hey, Spike didn’t care if the Slayer wanted to live in the land of denial.
Buffy had ordered him to take Giles home and to make sure he stayed there. Spike had acceded to her demand, but had left Giles at his apartment. He figured that since Buffy was with her mom, there really wasn’t any more damage that the Watcher could do.
Besides, Spike wanted his shower and his bed, in that order.
Buffy stood framed in the doorway. “Did I wake you up?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but I was about ready to get up anyway.” Spike stepped aside to allow her to enter. “What’s up, pet?”
“I just thought I’d come see how you were doing,” she replied. “Thanks for taking care of Giles last night.”
“Not a big deal,” Spike replied. He headed towards the kitchen. “Too bad about that prat Rayne getting away, though.”
She sighed. “And somehow I have the feeling we’re going to be seeing him again.”
“That wasn’t the first time you had to deal with him,” Spike said.
She shook her head. “Last Halloween he came to town and turned everybody into their costumes. It got pretty ugly.”
“I can imagine,” Spike murmured, heating his blood up in the microwave. “So, you need my help with something tonight, or did you just come by for patrol?”
“Neither,” Buffy replied. “I was hoping you could teach me how to drive.”
“Not in my car,” Spike responded automatically.
Buffy pouted. “You promised.”
“Not in my car,” Spike repeated. “What about your mum’s vehicle?”
Buffy shrugged. “If you asked, Mom would probably let you teach me. You really will?”
Spike regarded her for a moment, his steady gaze making her fidget a bit. “Thought that was usually the job of the parents.”
“I took the class,” Buffy replied defensively. Then she shrugged. “Mom doesn’t have the time, and Dad—” She broke off, unwilling to continue.
Spike sighed. “I’ll teach you, but you have to promise to listen to me.”
“I swear,” Buffy said, holding up her right hand in what she thought was the girl scout salute.
Spike snorted. “That’s the boy scout salute, luv.” He shook his head. “I’m going to die. Again,” he muttered.
Buffy scowled. “I heard that.”
~~~~~
“Joyce.” Giles stood on her front steps, fidgeting like a boy on his first date.
She blushed, thankful that Buffy had gone to patrol with Spike. “Rupert. It’s—how are you feeling?”
“Much more like my usual self, I can assure you,” he said, looking anywhere but at her. “How, uh, how are you?”
“Good,” she replied, her voice sounding almost squeaky.
They stared at each other for a long time, their eyes finally meeting. “I hope we’re still friends,” Giles blurted out.
“Of course,” she said quickly. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll make tea.”
Giles followed her inside, closing the door behind him, suddenly filled with new resolve. Even though the events of the previous evening made things awkward between them, Giles had enjoyed himself.
Of course, he didn’t really want to break any store windows again. The rest of it had been nice, however. Giles hadn’t felt that alive in years.
“Joyce,” he called, once they were in the kitchen. She turned, and he was so close to her that there was no space between them. Giles took his opportunity, pulling her to him, kissing her soundly.
Ripper never really was all that far from the surface.
She pulled back for air, staring at him with such shock that he immediately backed off. “I’m sorry, I—” Joyce pulled his head down for another kiss.
“We don’t have to tell Buffy,” she whispered when they came up for air a second time. “She wouldn’t understand.”
“I daresay she wouldn’t,” Giles replied. Their lips met again. “I do like you, you know.”
“Same here,” Joyce gasped out in between kisses. “We’re probably moving too fast.”
Giles didn’t let her go. “Do you care?”
“No.”
They necked like the teenagers they weren’t in the middle of the kitchen, because sometimes it felt good not to be a grownup.
And sometimes you just needed to feel alive.