The eerie silence that filled the car was almost deafening it was so palpable. As time wore on, Xander began to wish that he had never opened his mouth about Buffy and Spike beginning to feel something for one another. Giles' reaction had certainly been less than desirable.
In fact the more Xander thought about it, the more he began to realise how stupid the suggestion was. Giving a souled Angel that kind of power was one thing; if he ever lost his soul again it would practically be suicide for the rest of them. While he had been playing for the good side as of late, Spike had made it more than clear that his priorities still lay with his insane sire, despite what feelings were developing between him and Buffy. So, even contemplating giving a currently soulless demon—a soulless Spike—that kind of power was absolutely out of the question.
The adamant refusal that Spike be the one that Buffy should be bound to had left them with little else from which to choose. They had discussed the ritual in great detail together and while a normal hand fasting ritual took no more than the words of the ritual to be spoken while the subjects' hands were bound together symbolically, this one was infinitely more adult rated.
Joyce had been horrified as the details of what exactly was involved were described to her. They all had been a bit shocked at some point, but overall, the took it well. Willow's innocence was the most affected. It was one thing to suspect something, but it only ever became truth when it was voiced.
The selection of acceptable partner choices was whiddled from three down to two and then almost immediately from two down to one. Down to him to be more specific. Giles was simply out of the question and with Oz being a werewolf they couldn't be sure of the side effects it might have on either of them. Xander was disgusted with himself for the nearly crippling bolt of joy and excitement that ran through him initially. Now all he felt was sick.
The reactions as everyone had realised that he was the only real choice they had was varied. Joyce had looked upset but reassured somewhat by the fact that it would be someone her daughter was close to and knew well. Giles looked grim, Willow was shocked beyond the capabilities of speech, Oz wore his usual stoic mask and Cordy…Cordy had burst into tears in a moment so out of character that he hadn't known what to do. The sick feeling he had felt in his gut intensified with her reaction.
Now, with Spike driving, Giles in the front passenger’s seat, and Xander and Cordelia sitting in the back, they were all acutely aware of the uncomfortably tense silence as they waited for some reaction from Spike, telling them whether they were close to Buffy or if he could pick up her scent. Xander glanced across the back seat to his girlfriend who had insisted on coming along, and felt a rush of emotions flood him. He was going to lose her…
Buffy blinked groggily as she rolled herself over to look out into the room that had been her only source of entertainment for what felt like days. There was something wrong with her—that much she could decipher. Her limbs felt tired and heavy like she was moving through syrup and her head held a fogginess to it that she couldn't seem to push past no matter how much she tried. Yes there was definitely something wrong…she just didn't know what it was.
Here gaze moved slowly to look at the bed in the corner of the room to see the young Watcher staring at her with sad brown eyes. He hadn't been able to even bring himself to set his gaze upon her the day before; now he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.
Buffy turned her gaze away from him as he averted his eyes and they sluggishly came to focus on the centre of the room.
Someone had roped a dead lamb to the centre of the ceiling so it hung down into the middle of the room. A trail of its blood measuring roughly two meters wide stained the carpet to make a dark maroon circle. The smell the dried blood gave off was thick and pungent and even when Buffy forced herself not to go through the mechanics of breathing—something she really no longer needed to do—the smell still seemed to assault her senses.
This can’t be of the good, she though as her heavy eyelids drifted shut again.
“Did you say the ritual required the blood of a lamb?” Spike asked, suddenly pulling the car to a stop outside an apartment complex.
Giles gave him a peculiar look. “Yes, the sacrifice of an innocent animal is made to mark a ring of blood around the floor of the sacred place chosen for the ritual to be carried out. It is believed—.”
Spike rolled his eyes and cut Giles’ babbling short. “A simple ‘yes’ would have done it, mate,” he nodded towards the building they had parked in front of. “I can’t feel or sense her nearby but a shit load of sheep's blood has been spilled in there recently.” he paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side inquiringly. “Also seems our mate Angelus is close by as well.”
The two teens in the back seat tensed to alertness.
“We’ll come back in the daylight hours to further investigate then,” Giles replied, peering calmly into the shadows “Take us home.”
Spike nodded and swung the car around as he drove off again.
Angelus watched the proceedings from the shadows.
Originally, he had been intrigued by the overwhelming smell of animal blood coming from one of the apartments. The only time you smelt that much blood was around butchers and ritual sacrifices. Considering he was currently residing in Sunnydale, he was going to go with the latter. The question was who was attempting the mojo, and what ritual were they trying to carry out?
His mild interest had practically skyrocketed the moment he had sensed the approaching presence of his grandchilde and the car load of white hatters.
Angelus watched they pulled up and the proceeded to sit there for a few minutes as they obviously discussed their options. He cursed his bad fortune at his distance from the car. He was close enough to hear the murmur of their voices, but too far to make out what they were saying. But in this instance, their presence at all was enough to let him know that this was something important enough to warrant their leaving the safety of their house at night.
Since he had lost his soul, they never went anywhere alone, and they never left the house after dark unless absolutely necessary. It was quite the evil ego boost that they took such precautions because of him.
The only thing that stumped him in this scenario was the lack of the Slayer’s presence. She wasn’t one to sit back and let the others do her work for her, yet she was most definitely not part of the group that was out on the little reconnaissance mission.
Angelus watched as the car did a u-turn before driving off into the night again. They had most likely sensed his presence, he mused silently. His interest was more than piqued, and his curious nature refused to let him drop it. He gave one last look at the building committing its location to memory before setting off in the direction the car had driven. A direction he knew well. He was going to pay a little visit to Revello Drive.
A knock sounded at the door. “Sir?”
“You may enter.” Travers and Hank looked up from their papers as the door to the study opened and a young field agent walked in to stand stiffly before them. “What is it?”
“The Slayer’s friends, sir, and Rupert Giles were just sighted outside the block of apartments. They had the vampire with them.” Travers frowned and looked down at the papers before him.
“Seems they caught on quicker than expected,” he half muttered to himself.
“I told you that the sacrifice would only attract attention when done before the actual ritual itself.” Travers shot Hank a dark look at the patronising tone that rang through his voice. “You know I’m right. The vampire could probably smell all that blood a mile off, and if they have any insight to the hand fasting at all, then they’ll know that we’re here.”
Travers ignored him.
“How long were they here?” he asked instead. The young man startled slightly at being addressed again.
“Not longer that a few moments. A minute, maybe two at most, before they drove off again. No one exited the car,” he answered in what he hoped was a strong voice. The Head Watcher nodded again before dismissing the man.
“You’re absolutely sure that this ritual can be completed on the night before and after the full moon?” Travers queried the Slayer’s father once he was sure the boy was gone.
A twisted grin spread over Hank’s face. “Positive. In fact, many believe that it is better for the ritual to be carried out on the night before rather than on the actual night of the full moon.”
“Good, good then. And you are sure the drugs you are feeding her are taking effect?” He couldn’t help but feel nervous now that everything he had dreamt of for so long was almost at hand. He didn’t have time for slip ups and visits from the Slayer’s sidekicks. The ritual needed to be completed before they came barging in to save her or all else could be shot to hell.
“Better than I could have hoped for,” Hank replied doing little to mask the eager excitement from his voice.
“Tomorrow then,” Travers made his mind up and turned to face his desk where a tray with two glasses and a bottle of scotch sat untouched. “As soon as night falls.”
Hank smiled as he accepted his glass and nodded. He raised it in a small salute before taking a hearty swig. “Tomorrow at nightfall.”
Giles wasn’t surprised to hear the knock on the door later that night. Other than Spike—who was presumably sitting on his cot down in the basement—he was the only one awake. He had been sitting up for hours pouring over anything he could find in books and everything Willow had found on the internet about the apartments they had been to earlier that night.
So far he had come across very little that could come of any use and he had felt his mind begin to drift to their other current problem of Angelus and his lack of soul.
Giles had no doubt whatsoever that terminating Angelus was their only option after what he had done to Buffy. He had absolutely no problems entertaining the thought of Angelus meeting a dusty end, and had, in fact, been expecting Angelus to be lurking around the exterior of the house after Spike had sensed him nearby when they had been out and about earlier that evening.
No, what bothered him was the notion that Angelus may somehow be involved in what the Council planned to do with Buffy. They were in no doubt that the Council was holding her, and presumably still had her alive. What he didn’t get was why Angelus had been lurking around. It had to be too much of a coincidence that he was felt at the one place they suspected Buffy was being held.
Picking up the crossbow on his way to the door, he opened it carefully to keep his weapon concealed from view.
“Angelus, how terribly predictable,” Giles remarked as the dark features of the vampire he had once considered an almost friend came into view. Now there was nothing he desired more than to see him meet a dusty ending.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Rupes?” his smile was a mocking leer that held his sarcastic laugh in the corners of his mouth.
“No, actually I’m not. And if you are here to make taunting idle threats then do you think we might be able to arrange a time when I have less important matters than you to worry about, because I am more than a little busy?” Angelus released a sneering snarl.
In a move that was done more for Buffy’s sake than any act of defiance, Giles rolled his eyes.
“Oh yes, I’m scared. Now if you’ll excuse me?” Angelus let out a howl of fury at the brush off and made to lunge forward, forgetting about the barrier that now barred him from a house to which he had previously had an all access pass. How dare Giles act so blasé in his presence? These people were meant to fear him above all else, not taunt him.
Giles reacted instinctively to the potential threat raising the concealed crossbow and firing a bolt before the vampire had time to react.
He watched with a calm indifference as it sailed through the short distance between them and imbedded itself firmly into the vampire’s chest with a dull ‘thud’.
Angelus let out a shocked squeak as he looked down at where the wooden bolt protruded from his heart.
“No!” he managed to gasp out before his body started the rapid decay into dust for an anticlimactic finish, until nothing more was left than the neat pile of his ashes left on the door step.
Giles shut the door softly, replaced the crossbow from where he had retrieved it, and returned to where he had been sitting.
“I was hoping he would do something like that.”