A/N-Mucho thanks to Spikeskat for the speedy betaing! And THANK YOU for all of the reviews!!
"Are your men going to greet me with open arms? Or is my reception going to involve the sharp end of a stake, eh?"
26
Spike studied Travers' body language, his senses searching for the merest hint of treachery. Even those individuals who had fully mastered the art of lying and could easily fool even the most sophisticated lie detectors, could not completely school every one of their body's natural responses to stress. Spike had become well-versed at literally 'smelling' a lie and was counting on that increased level of hormones to suss Travers out. The safety of his family depended on it, and Spike ignored the heavy scent of blood that still hung in the air and managed to lock in on Travers' scent.
As head of the Watcher's Council, Travers was as much his enemy - if not more - than the slayer, and Spike had made sure that he had knew him well.
Yet nothing was as it should be. The well-established lines between good and evil had been blurred into a subdued gray, leaving him without his usual cruel method of obtaining accurate information. Through his association with Buffy while she'd carried their child, he had developed a conscience of sorts; had found himself altering his lifestyle to avoid causing her upset. At the beginning, he'd been angered by this voluntary compromise, his evil ways something he had enjoyed. But as Buffy had become more accepting and content with him in her life, it didn't seem like much to give up in exchange for her mental well-being.
But his family was in danger, and now a new set of rules were being written. Trusting mortals was not a part of his genetic make-up, yet he was well aware that the Watcher's Council had the resources to give Buffy and his child the protection they required. He'd done enough research on the Council of Wankers in his day to be assured of that point, intending to be the one vamp who managed to bring down the mighty Council; never for a moment thinking he would, in fact, find himself indebted to them.
Walking into the enemy's den that was the Watchers Council was bordering on insanity, yet here he was. Not only contemplating, but hoping it would come to pass.
Seconds ticked away in silence, neither man letting down his guard. Spike used that time to further scrutinize the head watcher, completely ignoring those who were still awake and watching this clash of wills.
Eventually, Travers drew himself up and tipped his head in acknowledgement, giving Spike a cool, assessing look. He took his time before finally conceding, "I can assure you that I have no intentions of orchestrating your demise." He paused for a moment, his eyes searching for a sign of the vampire's integrity. "Might the people in my employ expect the same courtesy from you?"
Not surprised by this question, Spike responded curtly. "It's not something Buffy will put up with from me, so yeah."
Travers nodded thoughtfully. "Very well. As far as myself and the Council are concerned, you will be welcomed within headquarter walls, for as long as you need to stay... or until such time you’ve proven yourself a danger to its members and are considered a risk." The unspoken threat lingered chillingly in the air.
"And I'm just supposed to take you at your word, is that it?" Spike challenged, his demon goading his insecurity.
Irritation straightened Travers mouth into a grim line. "Yes, I do believe you will have to." His gaze softened marginally as he gestured towards the sleeping newborn. "I am quite aware that any double-cross would most likely end badly for me." Travers' eyes locked with the vampire's, steely resolve dominating his gaze. "I do not trust you, make not mistake of that; no matter how helpful you have proven yourself to be. However, as we both seem to share the common goal of keeping my slayer safe, I am prepared to put aside the fact that you are, in fact, a demon. As long as the Council is not compromised by your presence, your safety is assured."
The sudden flash of angry amber managed to take Travers by surprise.
"This is my slayer."
A hint of a smile ghosted Travers lips, finding himself amused rather than horrified by the pure possessiveness of that statement and the way it was ground out. It also proved to cement his impression that as long as Buffy Summers was in the picture, the Council could count on William the Bloody to remain non-lethal. Rather than be disturbed by this, Travers was intrigued.
And couldn't find it within himself to refute William the Bloody's statement.
"Yes, of course. Your slayer."
Not finding any signs that he was being patronized, Spike was somewhat placated, nodding his head in acknowledgement.
He was placing his unlife in the hands of the Watcher's Council, a first among his kind.
But instinctively, Spike knew the words spoken to him were the truth. A subtle shift had occurred in the balance between this twisted version of good and evil, one that he had never imagined possible.
And as the truck continued on its way, a subdued silence settled over the interior of the truck. Each mile left behind brought them that much closer to protection.
To sanctuary.
++++++
After suffering through months of every mother's worst nightmare, Joyce had lost all patience by the time the jet landed on a private airstrip in what they had been told was England. Her questions had remained unanswered and that was just unacceptable.
If not a little frightening.
The flight had taken far too long, and Joyce's anxiety had escalated from the moment she and Willow had been contacted.
They had been waiting in vain for news from Xander or Angel. Willow had become a constant companion at the Summers house, not wanting to be alone. Keeping up the pretense that nothing was amiss had been a drain, both physically and mentally, and the two woman had found that sharing the burden was far preferable than suffering alone.
They had made cookies. A mindless task that had allowed them to work together and enabled them to take their minds off the fact that people they cared about were in peril. A daughter. Two best friends. A Watcher. A vampire with a soul.
And with that knowledge, came helplessness. There was nothing that either of them could do to offer assistance, aside from making cookies and keeping up the appearance that nothing had changed. Hopefully buying Xander and Angel the time they needed to locate Buffy and Giles. The strain of having to watch every word that left their mouth to not alert the spying military that they'd been found out was excruciating.
Then, with a knock on the door, the game had suddenly changed.
And now, with the jet tires touching down for a smooth landing, Joyce's ire quickly grew and she tossed another hard look at the closed-mouthed man who had escorted them from her house. He had identified himself as being from the Watcher's Council, but Joyce was no longer one to take things at face value. She could now fully appreciate conspiracy theories and paranoia, and had spent the time in the air studying this situation for any hint of deception. True, the aircraft and destination spoke more of the Watcher's Council Rupert had described...
But she was no longer gullible, and if they thought for one moment that she was going to just follow along blindly without getting any answers to her questions... Well, they had no idea quite who the hell they were dealing with.
They were about to find out.
"Why have you brought us here?" Joyce demanded once more, hoping to break the man with a withering look. "Is my daughter alive?"
"I am afraid I am not at liberty to divulge that particular information," came the reply, the firm - yet pleasant - tone, unchanged from the previous dozen or so times he'd been hit with the same question.
With a heavy sigh of agitation, Joyce sat back in her seat, her fingers curling tightly around the buckles of her seatbelt, knuckles bleeding white with the ferocity of her grip.
"I uh, think it will be ok, Joyce," Willow attempted, having seen Buffy's mother's agitation mount throughout the flight. Not that she could blame her, with the Giles wannabe making with the cryptic and all. She had to wonder though, why the stealth had been lacking with their departure from Sunnydale, even though she had pointed out the cameras as covertly as possible.
"Well? What if this really isn't the Council? What if it's the military?" Joyce pointed out.
"Oh, good point. But, I'm going to have to go with the Council, unless the military is in the habit of occupying England, which yeah, I guess they could. Oh! The jet... We're talking pretty fancy here, and I can't see them having that kind of budget."
With the answer she so desperately sought so close within reach, Joyce's anger spilled over and she was sick of getting nowhere with her questions. It was time for action. Throwing off her seatbelt, Joyce rose to her feet.
"I demand to know what it going on," she ordered, hands fisted on her hips.
With economical motions, their Council escort released his seatbelt as the jet came ground to a halt. "Very well," was his response as he brushed past the two women just as the door to the sophisticated aircraft was opened from the ground.
Joyce looked out the small window and took note of the chauffeured vehicle waiting beside the jet, a small amount of apprehension melting away at its significance.
"Yep, I'm going to have to go with the Council. Can't see the military going through all these hoops just to impress us. Or lull us into a false sense of security, or anything," Willow commented.
"Ladies? Whenever you are ready," the stoic councilman announced, stepping away from the door as he waited for Joyce and Willow to exit the row they had been seated in.
"Where are we being taken?" Joyce couldn't help but ask, more out of habit than any real belief that her question would be answered.
But to her surprise, she received a reply.
"To Council Headquarters."
tbc
As noted above, I regretably will no longer be updating my stories at the Spuffy Realm. In case you were interested in following this fic, all my updates can be found at the Bloodshedverse (http://www.bloodshedverse.com) I just posted a new chapter (which I was going to post here with this message but realized I hadn't updated the one before it) I'm sorry if this upsets anybody! I realize this is extremely tacky but I wanted to make sure people could find the updates. I wouldn't count too much on my own personal site, I seem to be a slacker keeping it updated. Thank you very much Spuffy Realm!
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I had originally posted and stated that I would not be updating on SR any longer - but after 2 years out of the fandom, I have no idea why I said that. At the time, I had my own fic archive but that is no longer the case. I'm working on finishing this fic, so I thought I'd post the chapters that are missing and then I will post the newest chapter. I apologize for the tackiness of this, btw.