“Wait, here’s something.” The scoobies had been searching for hours and Willow’s eyes were heavy with the words on the page blurring as her eyes watered against the wide yawn that spilt her face. “It says something about a binding ceremony. Used for centuries. Contains blood rites and chanting and both parties present to do an incantation…Oh here we go, the ritual is used as a means of connecting two beings in mind and soul, like the prophecy said.”
Giles stretched his hand out across the table for the book and Willow happily handed it to him, eager to let her eyes rest on something other than the tiny print of the tomes.
“Well done,” Giles said as his eyes skimmed over the text at such a rapid speed that that a less practiced man would have had more than enough trouble keeping up.
Willow yawned and looked around. She was the only one left still awake. Xander and Cordy were both stretched out on the floor, their heads buried in the respective books fast asleep. Oz had fallen asleep in the chair next to her, half way through a book that she was certain was more about tribal mating rituals that any binding ceremonies and even Joyce had nodded off, delicately snoring from her spot on the couch next to Giles.
They seemed to come awake through some unspoken agreement though, the moment Giles’ exclamation left his lips.
“Oh, dear lord!” The others stirred and sat up rubbing their still sleep deprived eyes.
“I really hate it when he says that,” Xander noted, discreetly trying to wipe away the small puddle of drool that had dribbled from his mouth onto the book his head had been resting on.
“This is indeed the ritual we have been looking for,” Giles said slowly, his eyes never leaving the book in front of him.
“Well that’s good news, isn’t it?” Joyce asked cautiously.
Xander’s “there’s a but, am I right G-man?” caused a flicker of annoyance to pass across the Watcher’s face, but he did not call the boy on it.
“It turns out that the ritual required to bind the two beings together—.” Giles began before being cut off by an impatient huff from Joyce.
“Will you just spit it out already?” Joyce snapped. She was sitting on the edge of her seat with worry and the Watcher’s affinity for making things overly dramatic and drawn out wasn’t helping her nerves in the least.
“It’s a hand fasting ritual.” Two shocked gasps from Willow and Joyce reverberated throughout the room amongst the sea of blank faces.
“What? What’s a hand fasting ritual?” Xander questioned, with no small measure of panic.
“The equivalent of marriage, only it’s done through magic. And there is no divorce. It binds two souls together even after one or both has passed on,” Willow explained quietly.
“Yes, that is the basics behind a hand fasting ritual. However, the effects can be far more profound than any simple merging of the mind and soul. Each case is different so it can be difficult to document. However, if this is to occur, Buffy would be irrevocably branded on the inside of her left wrist—marking her as a married woman to all who knew what it meant—and she would be forever bound to that person. And likely able to experience their feelings and emotions.” The room was silent at the end of his announcement.
“And you think that if it is the Council that has her, that is what they plan to do?”
“I couldn’t say. If this ritual is indeed the reason that they have come after her and they don’t just plan on terminating her as a possible threat, then it is likely that they are planning to use her for some greater purpose,” Giles’ voice was solemn as he placed the book on the table.
“So in other word you are telling me that these filthy bastards are either planning on killing my baby or prostituting her out in some way to benefit their ‘mission’?” Giles didn’t answer, though he suspected that an answer hadn’t been expected and that the question had been rhetorical, with Joyce just venting her frustration. “My little girl is only seventeen years old! That’s far too young to get married!”
“Actually Joyce, the marriage is inevitable and needed to help stabilize her powers. Whether done through the council or through us, Buffy will have to undertake in a hand fasting ceremony in the near future. The most we can do to help is make sure that it involves someone with whom she is comfortable rather than some Council lackey.” Giles’ calm tone belied the inner turmoil he was experiencing. Despite her initial outburst, Joyce was taking the news fairly well.
“Oh, and who exactly do you propose she binds herself to for eternity? You do realize that it is going to have to be someone in this house, since we are the only ones who know just what she is and can still be trusted.” A beat of silence rang throughout the room as the occupants contemplated what Joyce’s words meant for them all. Joyce was right; it would have to be someone in the room. Who else was there that Buffy would feel even remotely comfortable binding herself to for eternity?
“We, ah…I guess if we somehow managed to, um… restore Angel’s soul? I mean, surely Buffy wouldn’t object to marrying Angel?” Willow offered timidly after a lengthy pause.
Cordy let out an indelicate snort. “Yeah, right! Were you like not around when Buffy first came back or when she was yelling at Spike last night loud enough for the whole world to hear? The last thing she is going to want is to bind herself to some mental homicidal manic who tortured her for three days straight.”
“Not only that, but it would be foolish to give someone like Angel that much power, especially if he ever lost his soul again,” Giles said quietly.
“I was just saying, I mean it’s not like we have a lot of options here, do we? Xander, Giles, and Oz are the only three that fit the mould,” Willow retorted, with more than a little defensiveness in her voice.
“Actually, we’re not,” was Xander’s reply. He hated himself for even thinking it, let alone bringing it up. A shared look with Oz told him the wolf had been thinking the same thing.
He looked around the expectant faces of his friends and family and took a deep breath “There’s still Spike.”
***
Spike shifted and slowly became aware of his surroundings. It was day time and the sun was high in the sky. He’d likely been unconscious for more than a few hours.
Buffy.
His body protested violently as he moved to sit up, the screaming pain that had previously gone unnoticed now making itself more than apparent. He let out a small groan and blinked his eyes open slowly, adjusting to his surroundings.
He’d obviously been fed blood. He was going to need a lot more though, and soon, if he was going to be able to stand long enough to get Buffy back.
“I don’t trust you.” Spike’s head whipped around, and his eyes landed on the Watcher, surprised that he hadn’t noticed his presence until he had spoken. “I don’t trust that you had nothing to do with orchestrating all of this—all of what’s been done to Buffy—but right now you are all we have to go on in so far as at getting her back, perhaps even saving her life. So I’m going to trust your sense of survival. You’re weak, and I have no problems believing it would take little effort and skill on my part to ram this stake through your chest.”
Spike quirked an inquiring eyebrow at the piece of wood in Giles’ hands, wondering what had brought on this change in the Watcher’s disposition towards him. He could hardly believe this to be the same man that he had a clear memory of coming to his rescue only a few hours earlier.
Despite that however, he found himself nodding his head slowly.
“I want to know who took Buffy this afternoon,” Giles asked with a flinty note in his voice that had the vampire looking on him with a new kind of respect.
“Was the soddin’ Slayer’s father, and he had a few of the Wankers Council lackeys with him. I didn’t hear him coming till it was too late and he’d hit me with some kind of spell that had me suspended in the air and unable to move.” Spike saw the question forming on the Watcher’s lips before he had even finished speaking and went on to answer it. “The Slayer was in your office at the time. She came out, he sent her a few threats to make her go quietly, knocked her out magically and went all stake happy on me.”
“You’re telling me that she didn’t even put up a fight? Buffy didn’t even put up a fight?” Giles’ tone was disbelieving enough to put Spike even more on the defensive than even the accusations Giles had made earlier.
“S’right. He told her that if she came quietly, none of you would be hurt. Pulled the ‘daddy’ routine on her and she did just that—went quietly.” Spike reached for his cigarettes and agitatedly pulled one out before lighting it up and letting the soothing effect of nicotine work through his body.
“And Hank was the one that took her?” Giles’ question was posed in an equally agitated voice coloured with disbelief. “Joyce’s ex-husband is not only a bloody warlock but is also working for the Council now?”
“S’right.” Spike saw the Watcher’s disbelieving look, and his temper flared. “If you don’t bloody well believe me then that’s your problem. I told you what happened, and if you really think I would go so far as to bloody well cook up a scheme that includes getting myself nailed to the freakin’ wall, then you’re out of your bloody gourd.”
They both stared at each other as they sized up what was being said and how far the other was willing to go to prove their point. So far everything the vampire had said and done had proven to be trustworthy, but he was a definite black area when it came to slayers. Giles was not willing to risk Buffy’s life just because Spike had thus far proven to be up front with information.
“Are you able to track her to where she is being held?” Giles question was not a declaration of trust or even proof that he was backing down. Spike’s heightened senses could be a much needed asset, and as long as he was useful, he would avoid meeting a dusty ending on the sharp end of a stake.
“I should be able to track her scent. If not the mark of domination she gave me,” Spike gave Giles’ smug look a pointed sneer, “should allow me to feel her enough to track her to wherever she is being held.”
“Good, we need to get her back before nightfall this Friday. That gives you two days—or nights rather—to locate her. The rest of our time needs to be spent deciding just how we are going to get her out.” The vampire quirked and eyebrow in the Watcher’s direction.
“This Friday night’s a full moon. Guess that means you found whatever ritual needs to be done to keep her dainty slayer brains from decorating the living room walls?” Giles gave Spike a disgusted look, and the vampire winced internally at his own callous remark. The last thing he needed at the moment though was the Watcher knowing Spike was having naughty thoughts about the girl Giles considered to be like his own daughter. Spike had the feeling the he was only just out of the staking zone as it was.
“The ritual is none of your concern. The only capacity in which you will be needed is making sure that the Council doesn’t get to us before the ritual is completed.” Spike felt his demon snarl at the thought of Buffy being bound to someone else in any form, but he bit back his retort and nodded placidly.
Giles nodded tightly and stood up, walking stiffly to the stairs.
Just before the Watcher slipped through the door, Spike asked, “And what of Angelus? He’s not just going to disappear while you have it out with the Council. That’s why I agreed to join your merry band of do-gooders in the first place, you know.”
“We have bigger problems than Angelus and his pointless teasing. Once the Council is no longer a threat to Buffy in the capacity that they are at the moment, then we will look to disposing of Angelus and your sire.” Giles’ response was punctuated by him shutting the door firmly behind him, leaving Spike no opportunity to reply. Surprisingly though, Spike had nothing to say.