Chapter 36: Reunion
As the plane was taking her back toward the mother country, Andrea tried to think of anything else but what she would find in Seaford. She hadn’t had much trouble convincing the High Council and Rupert that she had to go. Actually, it had been clear that the High Council was following Rupert’s opinion on the matter. It wouldn’t be long now before they admitted it officially and actually named him Head Watcher. Habit, she supposed. They were used to following a leader, and Rupert Giles had risen to the occasion very nicely. It had surprised her a little, to tell the truth, she hadn’t thought he would assume the role so easily. It only proved that he was even more suited for the job than she had thought.
The members of the High Council were returning to London, too. Having met Buffy and made a bargain with her, they had decided that they would be more needed at the Council’s headquarters than in Sunnydale. It hadn’t been the initial plan; they had been supposed to stay until Buffy regained her soul. Andrea suspected that meeting the vampire, being confronted so blatantly by Rupert, and learning that Quentin Travers was responsible for this mess had deeply unsettled them. They were more used to discussing events after the fact than to actually see things happen in front of them.
Andrea shut her eyes tight as her thoughts brought her back to the subject she tried not to think of. Her father was responsible was all of this. The treason felt more personal and painful than it would have if it had been any other Watcher. She doubted he had done it to get back at her, personally, but it was still a possibility. His reason was just one of the many questions she had for him. She would be leading the team that would go to Seaford with two goals. Retrieve Buffy’s soul, or rather the artifact that held it, and secure Quentin Travers, make sure he couldn’t harm anyone until the Council put him on trial. There hadn’t been a treason trial for a very, very long time, but the Council still knew how to prevent someone from doing any sort of magic for the rest of their life. That was probably what would happen to him. Not that anyone had known before this that the ex Head Watcher practiced any magic at all. And yet, he had to be experienced if he had managed to successfully cast such a spell.
Opening her eyes again, Andrea looked out at the sea of clouds they were flying through. He had certainly been clever in his revenge, if it was revenge he wanted. Turning the best Slayer that had ever existed into a bloodthirsty creature. Forcing the Council to deal with the situation while it was still trying to reorganize itself. Making sure Buffy would never get her soul back by simply leaving the choice to her. Very clever. Andrea had been right, a few days before, when she worried about what her father might do against the Council. She only wished that, just this time, she had been wrong. She wished she hadn’t recognized the house the Mage had shown them so clearly. She wished she hadn’t asked to go and had stayed with Rupert instead.
She just wished everything would be alright now.
*****
Had he thought it would have been of any use, Giles would have gone out with Angel to search for the two Slayers. If it wasn’t for the remains of a human meal in the kitchen, along with a bloodied mug, they might not even have known Manon was with Buffy. Where had they gone? What had they armed themselves for? They hadn’t seemed to carry any particular weapon when they had gone out the previous night. Dawn and Steven had looked through the axes, swords and stakes scattered in the living room, but neither had been able to say what was missing exactly.
For the first time in what felt like too many hours, no one was actually expecting him to make a decision or give his opinion, and it was nice. But waiting without knowing what exactly was going on was becoming stressful. Could it be that they had found Spike and had gone to free him from whoever held him? If they had indeed found him, why hadn’t they asked the Scoobies help instead of going alone? Too many questions, not enough answers. Giles wished Andrea hadn’t left, she was very good at piecing together bits of information until they made sense. Of course, that wasn’t the only reason he missed her presence.
Wandering through the house with an untouched glass of scotch in hand, he finally stopped in the living room, his eyes on the large frame on the wall. The pencil drawing wasn’t signed, but it wasn’t hard to guess who had captured so artfully the images of the two vampire residents of the house. Who would have thought they were vampires, seeing this picture? Just a young couple, obviously in love by the way they held each other, by their smiles and the happy light in their eyes. A normal young couple. And they had been that, or almost, for a few days, not that long ago. They could have been, still, if only… If only they hadn’t had to prevent an apocalypse, if only Manon hadn’t been hurt, if only Spike hadn’t cared enough to want to save her, if only Buffy hadn’t decided to be a vamp again, if only Giles and Andrea hadn’t gone back to the Council to bring Travers down, if only Travers hadn’t done that spell.
If only.
If only they could find Spike quickly. If only Buffy wanted her soul back. If only Giles didn’t have that awful feeling that his resolve to let her live even if she became a killer would soon be tested.
*****
The tingles were faint, because she was still a little distance from the building, from him, but already Buffy could feel the presence of her Sire for the first time in days. This simple reassurance that he was near was incredibly soothing, and she could almost have smiled. Almost.
“Are you sure these things won’t hurt them too bad?”
Glaring at the whispering Slayer at her side, she shrugged. What did she care if the tasers hurt whoever got in her way? Even if they did, it was only fitting. Long ago, Riley had given her these two electric weapons, arguing they could be useful, but she had never employed them for patrol. Now she would use the things, on the very persons who usually made use of them.
“Do you have a better idea?” she replied tartly. “I didn’t think so. Let’s go.”
They had observed long enough, or so Buffy had decided. They had no idea how many soldiers were around, so knowing that six had come out and waiting for more to leave was completely useless. For all they knew, there were fifty more inside. Or just two. And it didn’t make a difference, one way or the other, because Spike was there, and that was all she needed to know. Without checking whether Manon was following, she strode to the heavy entrance door, its battered look contradicted by the high tech pad on the side.
“How are we going to…”
A simple kick, precisely placed and unleashing too much pent up energy, cut off Manon and sent the door flying from its hinges. Immediately, an alarm sounded in the building, and two men rushed toward the entrance from a room on the side of the hall. They looked surprised as they saw Buffy standing there, and there was definitely a look of recognition in their eyes.
“So much for finesse,” she heard Manon comment just as she leapt toward the soldiers.
Before either of them could understand what was happening or use any of their weapons, she had sent one flying into a wall, leaving an indentation in the plaster, and the other into unconsciousness with the taser. Glancing back toward Manon, who was still by the door, her surprise plain in her widening eyes and gaping mouth, she called over the still sounding alarm:
“Come in or go back home, but don’t just stand there.”
Without waiting for an answer, she entered the room the two men had come out of. No one there, just computers and video monitors that showed a few men rushing through corridors. And Spike. On one of the screens, she saw him, chained to a wall, pulling on his restraints, though without much success. Allowing her eyes to leave his image was difficult, but soon she would do more than see. Very soon. Just for the heck of it, she sent an electric discharge through the computer console, provoking a major short circuit and ending the so annoying alarm buzz. When she came out of the room, she found Manon crouching over a third unconscious soldier, her fingers pressed to his neck as she checked for his pulse. The kid was unaware that three more were coming behind her, two of them holding tasers, the last one pointing a rifle at her.
“So, I can’t kill them but they can try to kill us?” she said sarcastically.
Manon’s head shot up and she took a step back when she saw the new threat.
“Don’t move or I will fire,” the gunman warned. “Drop your weapons and…”
“How about I give it to you instead of dropping it?” Buffy asked with a grin as she walked unhurriedly toward him and his companions. “All I want is to see your boss. Riley Finn is your boss, right?”
One of the soldiers nodded briefly in answer to her question, earning identical reproachful glares from the other two. That was all Buffy needed. Taking advantage of their short distraction, she dived forward, very low, the taser firmly held in her outstretched hand. Because the corridor wasn’t very wide, the three men were very close to each other, actually touching, and when she delivered a prolonged electric shock to the gun holder, all three collapsed. She had acted so fast that none had even had the time to aim their weapons down toward her.
Without losing time, she got to her feet and advanced further into the corridor, checking each door she passed, aware that Manon was following. She neutralized another man at the turn of a corner, and arrived in a somewhat larger hall. One of the walls was made of a large mirror, and she grinned maliciously when a door on the side opened and Riley came out.
“What do you think you’re doing, Buffy?” he asked harshly as she advanced on him.
“Where is he?” she shot back.
He raised a slightly shaky gun toward her.
“Don’t force me…” he started.
“Oh please! As if you were capable of firing on me anyway!”
Apparently, she had been wrong, because he did fire, just as the moment her foot came in contact with his hand, deflecting the shot and sending the gun flying out of reach.
“Oh Riley, I am so disappointed,” she said mockingly. “I thought you had feelings for me, and you actually were ready to kill me. A shame, really.”
She had come closer as she talked, while he was backing away toward the mirror behind him. With her last words, she swung her fist at him, not too hard, she wanted to make it last. She caught him in the jaw, and he stumbled a little, apparently as stunned by the fact that she was attacking him as by the force of her blow. There was a noise behind Buffy, and she turned back just in time to see Manon neutralize a soldier who had been sneaking toward his boss and his attacker. While she was distracted, Riley had regained his footing and he tried to lunge at her. She evaded easily, and managed to grab his arm, twisting it into his back as she pressed him against the glass wall.
“Here’s the deal,” she murmured right against his ear. “You tell me where Spike is now, and I’ll kill you fast. You make me lose time and look for him, and I’ll break every single bone in your body before draining you dry. Your choice.”
In the mirror, she saw his eyes widen in horror as he realized that she did not have a reflection, and she grinned wickedly. It was lost on him since he couldn’t see her face, so she turned him around roughly, grabbing his neck to hold him. For a couple of seconds, he stared at her dumbly, and she got tired of the game.
“Fine,” she snarled. “The hard way it…”
“Spike!”
Her head snapped to the side at Manon’s happy shout. The kid was standing by a now open door, and past her Buffy could see her Sire. She cursed herself for having gotten so caught up with the hunt that she hadn’t realized the tingles had become so much stronger. Pulling Riley with her so that he wouldn’t escape, she pushed her way past Manon into the cell, and paused just a second to drink in the sight of him. God, he was gorgeous…
Flinging a still stunned Riley against the wall, she finally rushed to Spike, certain that her heart was taking a beat when he smiled at her and said softly:
“’Knew you’d come, luv. But it took you long enough.”
Pressing herself to his still chained body, she placed feverish kisses all over his face, tasting the dried blood on his skin.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “So very sorry.”
Her lips finally found his and claimed them in an urgent kiss. She moaned when his tongue battled hers to invade her mouth, just as his scent, his taste and the feel of his skin under her hands invaded her whole being. It was so much, after these few long days without him, so much and so beautiful and powerful and… not enough. She needed more. He needed more.
She pulled away from his lips and slipped into her game mask without the conscious thought of doing so, happy to see him do the same thing before she had even pulled on the duster’s collar to expose her throat. His mouth latched on to her skin, fangs pressing tantalizingly against it, but he didn’t bite, not yet, waiting instead until she had pulled on the tattered remains of his shirt to expose more flesh. She gave a quick lap to his neck and slid her arms around him. At the same instant, they reclaimed each other, exchanging once more the very essence of what they were, as they had, long ago, that very first night, and so many times since. As his blood, Sire’s blood, Mate’s blood, flooded her mouth and senses, Buffy forgot everything that was not him. The Slayer and the soldier in the room behind her. The Council, Giles, the Scoobies and her soul. The world and its billions of potential meals. Nothing existed anymore. Only Spike and her.