Chapter 32
“Good-night? ah! no; the hour is ill/Which severs those it should unite;/Let us remain together still,/Then it will be good night./How can I call the lone night good,/Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight?/Be it not said, thought, understood—/Then it will be good night./To hearts which near each other move/From evening close to morning light,/The night is good; because, my love,/They never say good-night.” ~Percy Bysshe Shelley, “Good-Night”
“Wait, Buffy attacked Forrest?” Riley said, trying to make sense of what Professor Walsh was telling him. “Why?”
Walsh stood. “Does it matter what her motives were?” she asked. “The Slayer is obviously not the ally we believed her to be. We know that she was working with a vampire.”
He still didn’t understand how that could be. Riley had watched Buffy fight the Gentlemen; he’d seen her dust vampires and kill demons. She was either a very good actress or there was something else going on here.
“What are your orders?” Riley finally asked.
Walsh’s face was grim. “For right now, you’re to do nothing. Approaching Miss Summers openly will only risk exposing the entire operation. If you see her, I want you to let me know. We’ll have to move carefully on this one.”
Riley nodded, leaving Walsh’s office and heading for the elevator. Forrest was in the infirmary, and he would remain under quarantine until they knew he hadn’t been infected. He knew the other soldiers who had been in the detail, but they were still being treated for broken bones and other injuries, and Riley didn’t want to ask them about what had happened while they were inside the lab.
Not when someone could be watching.
It wasn’t that he believed that Walsh was lying, but he also didn’t quite see how she could be telling the truth. More likely than not, something had happened while the team was out on patrol, something no one wanted to admit to. Maybe they had been attacked, but by a lone vampire who had managed to take all of them out.
That would be embarrassing enough to get them to falsify a report, and Riley knew that Forrest and some of the other guys didn’t like Buffy. It would be easy enough to blame her, especially if the vampire had grabbed her; there was no reason to believe that she’d survive, so they didn’t have to worry about her showing up and disagreeing with their story.
If no one knew the truth, though, and Buffy did somehow show up again—well, Riley knew that even if Walsh didn’t give the order, some of the other men might take matters into their own hands.
Riley told himself that he wasn’t questioning orders; all he wanted was to get to the truth so that no one had to get hurt.
~~~~~
Joyce hung up the phone with a sigh of relief. She trusted Spike, of course, and she had believed him when he’d told her that Buffy would be fine, but his reassurances were no substitute for actually hearing Buffy’s voice. Although she’d been sick upon waking, she was feeling much better, and they would be home as soon as they could.
It hadn’t hurt to hear Spike’s rumbling voice in the background, and Buffy giggling at whatever he said. Apparently, they weren’t fighting anymore, and Joyce was relieved.
“How is she?” Giles asked.
She turned to look at him. “Better. Buffy said she was still feeling a little weak, but it’s passing. She sounds better.”
Giles nodded, pulling off his glasses. It had been a long couple of days for him, and he hadn’t been able to get much sleep since Spike had called and told them about the soldiers’ attempted capture. They’d all waited for his call to let them know that Buffy had regained consciousness, but after that Giles had gone to work.
There were still a few people on the Council that he’d kept in touch with, a few friends from the old days who were sympathetic to him and to his Slayer. Although Travers and his lot were steeped in tradition, not every Watcher embraced the old ways to the exclusion of anything new.
Giles had contacted every one of them that he could think of, and then had convinced several to talk to Travers. Perhaps he hadn’t been able to get much in the way of information out of those sources, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t wield some influence.
The Slayer, in spite of her decision to quit the Council, was still viewed as the Council’s territory. Travers, especially, would not like the idea that she was being targeted by a military organization, not with Faith in a coma and unlikely to recover.
The Council needed a Slayer, and Buffy was the one they had. Besides, Giles had a feeling that they wouldn’t agree with the Initiative’s methods. The experimentation indicated that they might be trying to find a way to use demons as weapons; Giles knew that the Council had tried to do the same in the past, but they’d failed so miserably that they were rather against anyone trying it again.
Giles couldn’t expect anyone else to put up with the time difference, however, and so he’d lost quite a bit of sleep, making phone calls and arguing with people.
Joyce put her hands on his shoulders, kneading tense muscles. “You should try and get some sleep,” she encouraged. “I’ll let you know if anyone calls.”
He shook his head. “I’m waiting for a call from Travers, and I’ll need to be sharp.”
“With a little sleep—”
“I’ll be muddle-headed,” Giles said, putting one hand over hers where it rested on his shoulder. “There will be time enough to sleep once I get this taken care of.”
“Do you think they’ll agree?”
“Yes, but I think they’ll ask for something in return,” Giles replied. “And given how Buffy feels about the Council, it might be out of the frying pan and into the fire.”
“At least they’re not trying to kill her,” Joyce said philosophically. “She’s the only Slayer they have, right?”
Giles sighed, leaning back and giving himself over to her ministrations. “That’s right, but the Council has been less than enthusiastic about her relationship with Spike, and I’ve had to put up with more than a few speeches about how Wesley has betrayed his Council oath.”
She snorted. “Please. They fired him, which cancels any promises he might have made.”
He chuckled at her outraged tone. “I don’t think he’s violating any principles, but Watchers take a life-long oath. Whether you work for the Council or not, you’re expected to follow its precepts.”
“Maybe they ought to rethink their rules,” she said. “Because they’re firing their best people.”
Giles murmured a disclaimer, but he wore a pleased grin nonetheless. The phone rang, and Giles picked it up. “This is Rupert Giles.”
“Rupert, this is Quentin Travers,” came the deep, measured voice. “I have an offer for you.”
~~~~~
Tara’s eyes were wide as she listened to Willow’s story. “So we really need to work on that permanent locator spell,” Willow finished up. “Giles said he didn’t think we needed to worry about the Initiative coming after any of us, but if something were to happen, we wouldn’t have to take the time to get a spell together.”
At the expression on Tara’s face, Willow added, “I mean, you don’t have to help if you’re worried about them coming after you. I would understand if you didn’t want anything to do with us.”
Tara shook her head. “No, it’s just—it’s scary, but I want to help,” she said firmly.
“Good.” Willow grinned at her. “I don’t think we could do this without you.”
“I think it’s going to take all three of us,” Wesley agreed as he sat down at their table.
They had agreed to meet in one of the student lounges on campus to make plans, and then make a decision as to where to go from there. The spell would require Xander to be present, if he was going to be the only one who could activate the spell; that meant that neither Wesley’s apartment, nor one of the girls’ dorm rooms would be the best location since there really wasn’t room to set up the spell.
“Hey, you,” Willow greeted him. “Did you talk to Giles yet?”
“Not yet,” Wesley said. “When I called, Joyce said he was in the middle of negotiations with the Council, so I thought it best to leave him alone.” He smiled at Tara. “How are you?”
“Good,” she replied, then began digging through her bag, pulling out two objects. “I thought these might work.”
Wesley leaned forward. There were two maps, one of Sunnydale, and very detailed, and one of the continental United States, although much less detailed. “Will these stand up to much use?”
“I-I th-think so,” Tara replied, pulling a book out of her bag, showing him the passage she’d marked. “I-I f-f-f-found this i-in one of my mom’s b-books.”
He scanned the spell, impressed as he saw what it was for. Wesley showed the spell to Willow, who beamed at Tara. “This is perfect!”
“It was used for old documents, so they wouldn’t be destroyed,” Tara said, buoyed by their enthusiastic response. “I thought it might be helpful for the maps.”
“Oh, quite helpful,” Wesley replied. “I think this will give us just what we need to complete the spell. Well done, Tara.”
She blushed a bright red. “I-it’s n-no b-big deal.”
Before either of them could assure her that it was a very big deal, Riley appeared behind Willow. “Can I talk to you for a minute, Willow?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Wesley said, rising from his seat at the table.
Willow shook her head at him. “Wesley…”
“I don’t want him near you,” Wesley said, his voice deadly. Although Riley had a few inches on him, and about fifty pounds, Willow was pretty sure that Wesley would win in a fight. Mostly because she knew that Spike had taught him to fight dirty.
“What did you want, Riley?” Willow asked, standing up and inserting herself between the two men. She had to admit that it was kind of nice to have a guy willing to throw himself into danger for her, but Willow had no desire to be the cause of bloodshed.
“It’s about Buffy,” Riley said. “I think she might be in trouble.”
Willow drew herself up, staring at him in disbelief. “I don’t believe you!” she hissed. “After what you did, you’re going to pretend to be concerned? You know, I thought you were a nice guy.” She turned to the others. “We should probably get going.”
As she started to walk away, Riley grabbed her arm. “Look, Willow, I don’t know what you were told, but—”
“Get your hands off of her.” Wesley’s hand was inside his jacket, and Willow knew that the only thing preventing him from pulling the weapon she was certain that he had was the surrounding students.
Willow quickly shook him off, retreating towards Wesley, her back bumping into his chest. “Don’t make this worse, Riley,” she warned him. “Just leave us alone.”
She tucked her hand through Wesley’s arm, hoping that he would take the hint. They hurried away, and Willow glanced over her shoulder only to see Riley standing there with a strange expression on his face; he almost looked like he was in pain, but that didn’t make any sense. Buffy was the one who had been hurt.
~~~~~
“You should probably roll over,” Buffy observed.
Spike didn’t bother opening his eyes. “Luv, if the sun won’t kill me, I doubt I have to worry about getting burned by sun lamps.”
“That’s so not the point,” she replied, shaking up the bottle of suntan lotion, warm from being under the fake-sun lamps.
He cracked an eyelid. “Then what is the point?” At her lifted eyebrow, Spike leered at her. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because you’re the one with a gutter-brain, so you’re supposed to know these things,” she teased, watching as he rolled over onto his stomach. Buffy began working the warm lotion into his back, reflecting that it was probably a miracle that she’d gotten Spike to agree to hang out with her by the pool at all. The extensive scarring on his back, as well as the new one on his chest, made Spike just a little shy about appearing in public without a shirt.
On the other hand, he seemed more comfortable here, with humans and demons freely mingling in equal measure. So far, Buffy hadn’t seen any other vampires, but there were a number of people whose features indicated that they had a little demon blood in them, and others who were fully demon.
Everyone seemed fairly intent on keeping to themselves, remaining in the company of people they knew, rather than trying to make new friends. It was different and weird.
And Buffy felt more comfortable here than she probably would have at any other hotel.
There was no worrying about making sure Spike had blood, or wondering where and how they were going to get it. She didn’t have to be concerned about suddenly having to work, because no one here was going to attack her. The hotel had a strict no-violence policy, and management had ways of enforcing the policy that no one wanted to risk.
Best of all, though, was the fact that Spike was utterly and completely relaxed, more so than he’d been for months. It was obvious that he felt comfortable here, and Buffy would have been willing to stay for that reason alone. The fact that she was enjoying herself made it that much better.
Once she’d gotten done with his back, she handed the bottle to him. “Your turn.”
He snorted, but sat up to face her. “Now I see what kind of ulterior motives you had.”
Buffy just gave him a sweet smile. “Yep. I want your hands all over me.”
His blue eyes darkened. “Maybe we better take this back up to the room.”
“I’m liking this pool-side thing,” she replied. “I haven’t been able to work on my tan in a while.”
Spike’s nimble fingers slipped underneath her bikini straps so he could reach her entire back. “These lights are really something,” he agreed. “I know a few vampires who come here just for the experience of getting a tan without going up in flames.”
“How come there aren’t more vampires here?” Buffy asked. “I haven’t seen any besides you.”
“Told you this place was exclusive,” Spike reminded her. “It’s also very expensive. There aren’t a lot of people or demons who can afford to come here. Besides, most vampires are just as happy to live in cemeteries or warehouses; there aren’t many of us who can appreciate the finer things in life.”
Buffy let out a little sigh of pleasure as he massaged already-lax muscles. “Have I mentioned how grateful I am that you’re one-of-a-kind?”
“Don’t think so,” Spike replied. “But feel free to mention it as often as you like.”
His cell phone rang, and Spike paused to pick it up. “Yeah?” There was a long pause, and then he handed the phone to Buffy. “It’s Rupert for you.”
Buffy took the phone, stifling a groan. She was having a very nice vacation, and the last thing she wanted to hear was that things were already settled and they could go back to the Hellmouth. Of course, she did want to go back home at some point, but not until she’d had a few more days with Spike. They still had some repair work to do on their relationship.
“What’s up, Giles?” she said, trying not to sound too put-out at his interruption.
“I’ve managed to talk Travers into approaching the Initiative about leaving you alone,” he began. “He had some conditions, though.”
“I’m not working for them again,” Buffy warned him. “I’ve had enough of that.”
Giles sighed. “They want reports, mostly; they don’t like being out of touch. I told them they’d get them, but I didn’t promise that I would be the one writing them.”
Buffy frowned. “Who is going to be writing them?”
“Preferably Spike or Wesley,” Giles replied. “They can edit them for content, and you can send the Council whatever information you decide is appropriate. In exchange, they’re going to do what they can to get the military to back off. I’ll call and let you know when things are settled.”
“So we should stay put for now?” Buffy asked hopefully.
“I think that would be best,” Giles responded. “I received the package from Spike today, and I’ll have Willow analyze the chemicals in the tranquilizer dart and let you know the results when we get them. Are you okay where you are?”
Buffy smiled. “We’re just fine, Giles. I think we can manage to be away for a few more days.”
“Take care of yourself, Buffy,” he said, then cut the connection.
“So we’re to stay put for a few more days, huh?” Spike asked.
“Yeah. Did Giles tell you about the deal he made with the Council?”
“He did. Guess I’ll be making use of my writing talents.”
“What talents?”
“Watch it,” Spike warned her, a teasing note in his voice. “You might find yourself in that pool.”
“You wouldn’t,” Buffy replied.
Oh, yes, he would.
~~~~~
Xander blinked. “You want me to what?”
“We need you to be the key for the locator spell,” Willow replied.
He leaned back in his chair at the dining room table. Xander had come over immediately when Willow called to tell him they needed him; he hadn’t been involved in the slaying recently, as busy as he was with his various jobs and Anya. Besides, Buffy had Spike and Wesley to help her on the demon-fighting front, as well as Willow to help with the magic. He had been beginning to feel as though he wasn’t necessary.
“Why me?” he finally asked.
Willow seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. “Because we thought it was a good idea if you were the one who knew where everybody was. You still have that military experience, and you can rally the troops if something happens.”
Xander shrugged. “If you need me, then I’m here. What do I need to do?”
“Nothing, really,” Wesley replied. “Willow, Tara, and I will be casting the spell. You just need to be present so we can make sure that you’re the one with access to the maps.”
He was beginning to realize that this was not merely a back-up position. If something happened, like when the Initiative grabbed Spike, he’d be one of the people with the information they needed. He would also be in the best position to help locate the missing person; it was a big responsibility, in a way.
“When do we get started?” Xander asked.
Wesley glanced over at Giles. They had already explained what they wanted to do, and the older man had agreed that it was a good idea. There was no reason for the Initiative to know anything at all about Xander, and therefore he was the best person to have the maps. They would be safest with him.
“I think now would be a good time,” Giles said. “We’ll need a personal item for everyone involved, though.”
Xander hesitated. “Is there a way to include Anya? Since she used to be a demon, if the soldiers ever found out…”
“I think that would be fine,” Wesley said. “One more person won’t make it any more difficult at this point.”
He nodded. “I’ll need to go grab the personal stuff.”
“We have to get something for Spike and Buffy,” Willow pointed out. “Maybe we can meet back here in an hour.”
“Sure,” Xander said, beginning to get a warm feeling. It looked like he was needed, after all.