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Chapter 13



Spike felt the Watcher’s eyes zero in on his neck the instant that he and the Slayer exited the basement, and had to suppress the urge to growl at the frustrated and disapproving look he gave them. It was obvious—if it hadn’t already been before—that the Buffy’s Watcher did not hold the same sentiments concerning this claiming.

Trying to ease some of the tension that was passing back and forth between Slayer and Watcher, Spike stepped away from her side and went to sit beside the werewolf. He liked this kid; his demon seemed to have a calming effect on his own, and he didn’t feel the need to yammer on about everything and anything he could thing of.

Everyone was assembled in the kitchen, sitting on various counter tops, and seemed to be waiting for them so they could start some type of Scooby meeting. He ignored the way the whelp’s eyes bore into his back as he crossed the room to hoist himself up onto the counter top beside the werewolf.

“I see the bleached wonder can walk again,” Xander sneered, turning his head away from the blond menace and completely missing the extra set of holes in his neck. “With Slayer blood pumping—or not pumping—away in his veins, it would make him pretty invincible at the moment, right? I don’t see why we can’t just send him back to the mansion to deal with the evil twins.”

Spike felt the growl rise in his throat at the implied comment he could hear in the boy’s voice suggesting that he was no longer evil. He’d be damned if he got stuck doing their dirty work, and he had never consented to killing Dru. Just because he was helping them defeat Angelus and had allowed himself to be dominated by the Slayer didn’t mean he was willing to don a white hat and jump on their say so. As soon as this fiasco was over, her was grabbing his dark princess and getting the hell out of dodge.

“I’m not doing your Slayer’s bloody dirty work for you, whelp,” Spike replied, sending Xander a glare at which the brunette rolled his eyes. Spike cringed internally—being in the presence of these people did wonders for your evil self-esteem.

“Please, like you have any say in the matter any more. You are totally Buffy’s butt monkey,” Xander retorted, sporting a grin which was just a bit too smug for Spike’s liking. He released a little snarl from his chest as he turned cold eyes on the Slayer.

“S’that what you’ve been telling everyone, pet?” His tone was steely and he smiled to himself as the Slayer instantly began back peddling.

“No! I swear! The only person I told was Giles.” Steel blue eyes turned to a guilty looking Watcher.

“Well then, seems the Watcher might have misinformed you as to what my ‘butt-monkey’ status actually entails. It doesn’t take away my free will, whelp, so I’d watch your mouth. Not always going to have your Slayer bodyguard to protect you.” Giles cleared his throat, trying to diffuse the growing argument.

“Yes, well, I’m afraid we missed out window of opportunity, Xander. Angelus will be expecting us now, whether we plan to attack or not. We’ve also lost the element of surprise we had with Buffy’s unknown status,” he stated as he took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“To be fair, it wasn’t much of an advantage. As soon as I went all demony, he went all growly and tried to jump me,” Buffy said matter-of-factly in her defence. Giles barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes heavenward.

“I do so love how you butcher the English language,” he muttered as he replaced his glasses. Spike snorted in agreement.

“What about Buffy’s dream? Was there anything else useful in that?” Willow asked as she peeked out from behind her computer.

“Dream?” Joyce queried, placing her mug of coffee down and looking quizzically at her daughter.

“Part of the Slayer package, mom. I get prophetic dreams occasionally.” Her mother made an impressed sound.

“Did you happen to see us coming into a load of cash?” She muttered to herself as she took another sip from her rapidly cooling drink.

“Buffy?” Giles prompted, pulling the teen’s attention back onto the dream.

“Yeah? Oh right, the dream. I told you about it right? The only warning it appeared to be giving me was to be wary of the Council. Very heavy ‘not what they seem’ undertones. The rotting olive branch, white masks, and the fact that they kept trying to lead me off the path that I had to follow—which is really kind of symbolic now that I think of it.” Giles frowned and shook his head lightly in confusion.

“Are you sure it was prophetic? I just don’t see why you would be sent dreams to warn you about the people for whom you work. The Council has been on the side of good for as long as it has been established. Even longer, one could assume. What else was in the dream?” Buffy blushed as she remembered the bedroom Spike had taken her to. Some how she knew if she brought that up she wouldn’t be taken seriously.

“Nothing else,” she confirmed.

“Are you sure?” Buffy couldn’t look Giles in the eye, so she settled for nodding her head vigorously and trying to hide the blush that was staining her cheeks.

“I just don’t see what you have to be wary of from the Council,” Giles said adamantly.

“Please Watcher, you can’t honestly tell me you believe the council to be one hundred percent on the up and up. An organisation like that is bound to have corruption within its ranks. Just depends on how far up on the hierarchy the corruption is as to how bad it will be for you.” Giles looked torn between his sense of loyalty and what he knew deep down to be true.

“What cause would they have to attack their own Slayer?” Giles put up feebly. Truth was, he could think of dozens of reasons. He had heard stories—whispered back and forth between students in his days when he was training to be a Watcher—of the council killing off their Slayers when they became old enough to question whether what they were doing was right.

He hadn’t thought anything of it back then, at a time when he knew no vampires personally and had only ever seen their true face in the books he studied within the Council headquarters. But now, after meeting the vampire with a soul on the road to redemption and the vampire without one who was willing to side with the Slayer to work towards a common goal, he was being forced to look further into the pockets of grey he had found in a black and white world.

“I would have thought your Slayer’s new and improved self would have been reason enough,” Spike retorted, giving Giles a condescending look.

Giles sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his tired face in irritation. He knew he was being irrational, but he still felt that as a Watcher he should at least put up a token protest in the Council’s defence. “We should look into better surveillance. I dare say they will spend sometime watching you before they decide to make any move.”

“Wait, so now I not only have my deranged ex-boyfriend after me, but the Council is trying to kill me as well? Why don’t I just jump off of a cliff and save them the effort?” Spike chuckled loudly and Buffy shrank back slightly under her mother’s icy glare.

“There will be no jumping off of any cliffs. Let’s just think this through,” Joyce said, straightening up. “If they are having someone watch the house, then maybe we should think about dropping the cloaking spell. Angelus knows where you are and they will know something is up with us the second the realise that all the lights are on in the home but they haven’t seen a single person inside.”

Giles coughed slightly in surprise at her logic on the matter. “Yes, well, there is no use in us continuing to hide our presence if he already knows where we are.”

“Yeah, I’d say he has a pretty darn good idea.” Willow’s voice spoke up from the table again. There was a slight tremor in her voice that had everyone looking at her. She gestured towards the window with wide eyes as they turned to find the face of the vampire in question watching them. Both Cordelia and Xander sprung back from the window simultaneously emitting identical shrieks.

The cloaking spell prevented Angelus from actually seeing or hearing anything they did, but he seemed to realise suddenly that he had their attention as a slowly evil smirk formed on his face and he lifted a hand to wave mockingly at them.

“You’ve got to come out some time,” he said, speaking loudly enough for them to hear through the glass, before melting back into the darkness of the night. Buffy’s eyes never left the spot where he had been.

“We have to do something. I’m sick of waiting around.”





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