Buffy slept solid through morning. It was the deepest sleep she’d had in years. Her muscles hurt in ways she didn’t like to think about. She raised her head to find the bed empty. The digital readout on the clock blurred. She squinted, bringing the red slashes of numbers into focus.
“It’s after 10? Oh, that can’t be right.”
Buffy eased herself by parts out of the bed. She went to Dawn’s room. Knocked. No answer.
Giles was just coming out of the kitchen with a cup of tea when Buffy made her way downstairs.
“Ah, there you are,” he said. “I was just coming to find out if you were all right.”
Buffy smoothed her hair behind her ears. “I’m Little Miss Sleeps In, apparently. Where is everyone?”
Giles said, “I just got in myself.”
“Oh? Long night at the library?”
“Early morning, actually. Had to retrieve a text from my office,” Giles paused. He swirled his tea. “Um, Buffy. We’ve all been so busy, what with the archive and the impending doom. I haven’t... well, I haven’t checked in. How are...”
Buffy always did enjoy watching Giles attempt warm fuzziness. His Dad Senses must have been tingling.
“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Buffy said. She realized she was starting down the avenue of reassurance. She came to a screeching halt. “Well, no. That’s not exactly true. I got my ass kicked last night by a group of super vamps. So I guess that falls into the ‘not fine at all’ category.”
Giles put down his mug on the entry table. “Super vampires?” he said, quietly.
“Remember the Turok-Han?”
Giles looked momentarily mortified.
“Not that strong,” Buffy said, reassuring again. “But close. Like double first cousins close. We had to pull circus tricks to beat them.”
“Were they...?”
“Joe Vampire, foot to fangs. But wicked strong and wicked fast,” she said. “Giles, I think if I had been alone, I might not have...”
The corners of Giles’ mouth turned down as if he’d just bitten into a moldy cashew.
“They were strong, Giles,” she said, keeping her volume down. “Like Gem of Amarra strong.”
“Buffy, whatever this is that we’re up against, they aren’t holding back. They are going global,” Giles said.
Buffy felt the twinge of a muscle cramp under her shoulder blade. “I know. The Sisters said the world will witness,” she said. “Am I correct in assuming that it’s all connected? The Deeper Well spell, the supercharged vampires...”
“The Sisters and Spike’s return,” Giles said.
Buffy studied Giles, waiting for him to explain. When he didn’t, she narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t even start,” she said.
She stepped around Giles into the hallway. The kitchen was empty, but she heard garbled noise in the direction of the TV room. She headed that way. Giles followed.
“Buffy,” he said, trying to catch her. She ignored him. The TV room was empty. The garden, then.
Giles got in front of her. “Look, I’m aware of what you must think. I’m a fretful old ninny with too much to worry over than to criticize your choice in men,” he said. “But, I do worry. I am a ninny. And I do have my doubts.”
“I don’t,” she said. “You taught me to trust my instincts. So, while I appreciate your earnest honesty, I’m good on this one. And,” she added, “I would never call you a ninny.”
Giles shrugged. “Yes, well. With our precarious situation, it is particularly important that we choose our alliances with extreme care. Just try to consider all possibilities.”
“Fine,” Buffy said. She stepped passed him again. “Consider them considered.”
The noise turned out to be The Clash played at just below ear-splitting volume on Andrew’s iPod. No shock there. Finding William in the garden up to his elbows in topsoil and wielding a trowel took them both by surprise.
Buffy stepped out onto the flagstone patio. She toggled the off button on the iPod. William kept singing and continued digging for a few seconds before understanding that the back-up track was gone. He stood up quickly, turned to them and stammered.
Buffy craned her neck to see around him. A row of seedlings lined the back garden wall, their leafy green tops just peeking from the mud.
“Are you... gardening?” she said.
“Is that my sombrero?” Giles said.
“Well, yeah,” he said, clinging to dignity. Not really clinging so much as slipping.
Buffy stepped out onto the lawn. “Really?” she asked, disbelieving.
“Sure. Yeah. I’m a helpful sort,” William said.
“Helped yourself into my rooms for your sun hat,” Giles said.
“I have fair skin, don’t I?” William answered.
“You regenerate,” Giles yelled.
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Rupert,” William said, rolling his eyes. “Willow’s the one got the hat and the gardening gig. She asked me to plant these, seeing as I’m the one who’s home during the day. They’re meant to strengthen the shield ’round the house. Growing things. Positive energy. It’s good feng shui.”
Buffy cast an ‘I-told-you-so’ look over her shoulder at Giles. William dusted soil from his hands and joined them. And he removed the hat. The three of them headed back indoors.
“By the way,” William said. “Some bloke name of Bairdley phoned. Said there was a complaint from Anjelica’s host family.”
“A complaint?” Giles said.
“About Anjelica?” Buffy asked. “She’s all silent type. What did they say?”
“Something about her making weapons out of their silver. Didn’t catch all of it. I’m not Message Boy,” he said.
“Well now, that’s hardly cause for complaint,” Giles said. “It’s extraordinary, making her own weapons. Girl should be commended for her ingenuity.”
“Though I’d hate to see what she’s using as a forge,” Buffy said.
Giles went to the phone stand to return Bairdley’s call.
~*~
Xander and Dawn were in the basement, sorting through books from the archive. Dawn had loaded a loose assortment of incantation texts, grimoires and personal spell books into a cardboard box labeled ‘Mystical Misc.’
“So she invited you back during the week,” Dawn said. She taped the box lid down. “I’m thinking, good sign.”
Xander hefted the box. “Well, okay. But, there is something weird. Is this the only one ready for now?”
“Yep. Giles'll want these in with his private Watcher stash. We can pack them in the car,” Dawn said. They started up the basement stairs with Xander toting the bulky box of books. “What’s weird about her?”
“Huh? Oh. Maya,” Xander said. He smiled. Then frowned. “It’s like a hermit crab, you know? You try to pry it out, but it keeps retracting into its shell. But you kinda get the idea it wants to come out and play.”
“Hmm,” Dawn said. She opened the door.
“So I’m thinking, witness relocation program or twisted demon curse holding her captive within the store,” Xander said.
“Or maybe just possessive ex-boyfriend,” Dawn countered. “Normal things can make people wig out and hide in the old shell sometimes. So I've heard. Hey, maybe I can come along next time and check her out.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. I’d like to see what an enchanted bookshop looks like,” Dawn said. “And I promise not to mention your ex-demon fiancée, your love spell attempts gone horribly awry or the whole musical demon conjuring extravaganza.”
Xander put the box down on the entry hall floor. “Second thought, maybe don’t need your help.”
“Help with what?” Buffy said.
“Xander’s new girlfriend,” Dawn said, all chipper.
“Xander has a girlfriend,” William said, digging in. “Well met. Is she half blind, too?”
Xander’s incoherent protest was cut short for at that moment Andrew burst through the front door, slammed it, then ducked into the closet beneath the stairs.
“Um... What was that?” Buffy said.
Something outside rammed against the front door, jarring it in its frame. Dawn shrieked. Buffy ran to the door but she knew before she opened it that whatever had been there was already gone.
Giles came around the corner from the phone stand.
“What was that? Was someone here?” he said.
Buffy walked out onto the front steps, scanning the street up and down. She stepped back inside.
“Whatever it was, it’s gone,” Buffy said. “But Andrew...”
Dawn knocked on the door. “Andrew? We’ve got an all clear. You can come out of the closet now.”
“Go away please,” Andrew said, his voice muffled by the musty coats and umbrellas in the closet.
Dawn pulled on the doorknob. “Come out. No part of this is funny.”
Andrew held fast, tug-of-warring with her and winning. “No, I’m not coming out. Not ever.”
Xander banged on the door. “What have you done, muppet weasel?” Xander growled.
“Xander, back off,” Buffy said. “Andrew, it’s us. Okay? Come out and tell us what happened.”
Andrew didn’t respond.
“Fine,” Buffy said. She casually ripped the door from its hinges.
Andrew crouched among galoshes, tears streaming. He turned a whiter shade of miserable.
“I think Nighna’s a demon,” he said, gulping air like a Brittney Spears fan. “And I think she followed me here.”
They stood there, soaking in the words. Finally, Xander gave a tiny snort of laughter. They all stared at him, appalled, which made him laugh a little more.
“Come on. I can’t be the only one who sees humor in this,” he said. “Somebody sharing my pain. I’m no longer alone in the ‘My Ex is a Demon’ parade. Andrew can throw ticker tape.”
“Xander, shut up!” Dawn snapped. She whirled on Andrew. “How could you let this happen? You led a demon to our doorstep. All the protection for this house is for nothing...”
Andrew crumpled inward even further. “I know. I didn’t know what else to do. Please shut the door.”
“Get out of there,” Buffy said. She hauled the reluctant Andrew to his feet. “We need to conference. Now.”
~*~
Maya awoke mid-morning, in the mood for the leftover treacle pudding in the fridge. The buckled floorboards creaked as she walked sockless across the chilly half-room that served as bedroom, kitchen and dining area. The smell should have warned her. But she could be pretty oblivious where treacle was concerned. By the time she reached the mini-kitchen, it was too late.
The stench. It was like a kick in her belly. Maya doubled over to the blue and black tile floor.
“What?” she gasped, nearly gagging. She raised her head. The freezer door stood ajar by a few inches. Thin red fluid pooled in a sticky puddle beneath it. Maya’s body trembled and went cold.
“What did I do? What did I do this time?” she whispered, her voice frail and shaking.
She crawled toward the refrigerator. She opened the door, knowing full well what she would find inside. All spoiled. All ruined. And, as a free gift, full of maggots.
Maya shut both freezer and fridge doors without further peeking. No need, seeing as it was neither her birthday nor Christmas, and who wants squirmy things for presents? She retreated from the kitchen area, itching to scream, knowing no good would come of it.
She screamed anyway.
“What did I do?” She smashed fists against the wall. “What? Tell me,” she shouted.
The light bulb above her glared white hot, wailing like a kettle.
“No,” Maya mouthed. She dropped to the floor, shielding her face with her arms. The first bulb blew. The others bulbs followed like a string of Chinese firecrackers, leaving Maya bleeding in the dark.
For a long while she refused to move. Refused to pluck the slivered glass from her skin. She heard the computer click on behind the store counter, cycling through its startup with bristling efficiency.
“No good asking questions,” she murmured to herself. As if she needed more of a reminder.
~*~
Angel stood in the ruined lobby of the Royal London Hotel. It was his problem now – every shattered window, every wrecked floor. He possessed the resources to revive the whole shambling mess.
Somehow it didn’t fill him with the sense of purpose he had hoped for. Here he was with home base, the keys to the kingdom in his hands, and yet he still felt muddled. His inner compass turned lazy wheeling circles, guessing for North and coming up Nothing.
The big question still skulked around in his head: why exactly was he here?
London had demon societies. They were anachronisms, staid and entrenched. Had been that way since before the birth of Christ. Demons in the UK weren’t so ambitious as those in New York or LA. Or Tokyo. Now there was a scene for scheming demons. So this was perhaps an unlikely location to set up his new W&H HQ.
It isn’t mine, he reminded himself. He was just piloting the evil ship to its demise. With a lot of luck, he wouldn’t be the captain when said ship went down. Until then, he had the Royal London Hotel to call home.
Angel glanced around the dingy lobby. It was not what it used to be, but it could be restored. It had been a lavish palace in an earlier time, one with sweeping promenades, a posh supper club, lushly cushioned fringed divans in the sitting areas.
Angel detected a movement behind him. He knew who it was without turning to look.
“What do you want, Luxe?” Angel said.
“I forget, you have heightened awareness,” Luxe said. He picked his way daintily over the rubble. “Even more so now, I would wager.”
Angel turned. “You know?” he said, suppressing his surprise.
“Of course,” Luxe said. He drew up short of standing beside Angel, wisely remaining beyond arm’s reach.
“Another gift, courtesy of our good friends, the Senior Partners?” Angel asked.
“I have much I could share with you, Monsieur Angel,” Luxe said. “But now is not the time.”
“Not the time...?” Angel began.
Luxe produced a black envelope emblazoned with an ostentatious silver trident on its seal. He held it out. Angel made no move to take it.
“It is an event, to commemorate the Equinox. You needn’t make a grand show. Our table is commonly concealed in the balcony overlooking...”
“What is it, an amorality play?” Angel said.
“It is a ritual sacrifice,” Luxe deadpanned. “And I think you will learn many useful things should you attend.”
“Thanks, but I’ve seen slaughter,” Angel said. He began to walk away.
“You may learn of those responsible for your new strength,” Luxe said.
Angel paused.
“You must understand, you are not alone,” Luxe said. “Every vampire the world over shares the Old Blood. And with it new vigor. Things have changed, Monsieur Angel. The scales will balance. The world will witness our glory...”
Angel raised a hand, cutting Luxe off mid-sentence. "You’ve made your point. As you can see, I have a lot of work here. But..."
He stared at the seal and the fine-milled black paper of the invitation in Luxe's hand.
“Ah, Monsieur,” Luxe said, his voice no more than a purr in his throat, “you cannot resist the knowledge we represent. In truth, we want the same things as you. You know you cannot attain or protect anything in this world without power.”
“You just keep talking,” Angel said. He snatched the invitation from Luxe. Without looking at it, he slipped it into the breast pocket of his coat. “You may go now,” he said.
Luxe bowed his head. He left Angel alone in the sifting dust and rotting timbers of his tomb of a hotel.
~*~
Andrew hyperventilated. It was like watching a cat trying to sneeze. Giles fetched a paper sack from the kitchen while the others waited all tense in the dining room.
After breathing in and out of the bag a few times, Andrew settled back into the comfy chair. A skim of perspiration slicked his brow, matting his hair to his forehead. Other than that, he looked properly terrified.
“All right, Andrew,” Giles said. “Start at the beginning.”
Andrew tried to speak, but it came out croaky. “I think I need a glass of water,” he whispered.
“Just get to the tale,” Dawn snapped.
“Fine,” Andrew snapped. “After I left Nighna’s flat this morning, I got almost all the way to the trains before I realized I forgot my watch on the night stand. It’s a collector’s edition Scooby Doo wristwatch. The second hand is a Scooby Snack so that when it sweeps it looks like Scooby’s trying to...”
“Andrew,” Buffy said in a cautioning tone.
“Right. Well, I had to go back for it. It’s a really keen watch. So I went up I called for Nighna, but she didn’t answer. I thought she was in the shower. I let myself in, but she wasn’t in the shower. She was right there, only she’d gone freak show, with the scaly skin and pointy teeth. And horns,” Andrew said. He shuddered.
“You mean that’s not how she was normally?” Xander said. Dawn cut her eyes at him.
“Ha Ha. So very funny to be nearly eviscerated by the one you love,” Andrew said.
“Been there,” Xander said.
Buffy cut in, “So she attacked you.”
“She said she was done with me anyway. And then she attacked. I fought her off,” Andrew said. “Actually, I didn’t. I didn’t fight. I panicked. I reached for the watch but got this instead.”
He slid a black envelope onto the table. William, who was sitting on the edge of the table, turned it around to have a better look at the seal.
“Your girlfriend’s a demon and you still reach for your watch?” Dawn said.
“It’s a collector’s edition...” Andrew said.
“Hold on,” William said. “I know this symbol.”
“You do?” Buffy asked.
“It’s Triumvirate,” William said. “It’s a club.”
Giles took the envelope from William’s hand to study it.
Andrew said, “You mean like a clandestine demon organization bent on world domination?”
“No,” William said. “It’s a nightclub. Swank place. Means your ex hangs with the elite.”
“How do you know about it?” Buffy asked.
“I’ve been there,” William said. “Long ago. I was never a formal member. More Angelus’s crowd than mine. A lot of poncy poofs strutting around like they rule the universe.”
Giles took off his glasses and massaged his forehead. “Andrew, we’ll need to know everything you’ve ever told her. Is there any possibility she may know about all of us?”
“Not from the mouth of this little sparrow. No way,” Andrew said. “I’ve been John Steed, 007 all the way. She thinks I’m an archaeology student getting my master’s degree at Oxford.”
“There must be a reason for her to have followed you here,” Giles said. “You didn’t let something slip? About The Council? Or Vampires?”
“The Archive?” Dawn put in.
Frustrated, Andrew slumped further into his chair. “I’m not that stupid,” he said.
“Then maybe she knew all along,” Xander said. “You guys met in Greece. Maybe she was working with someone while you all were in Rome.”
“The unsolved demon attack,” Dawn said, urgently. “She may have had something to do with it.”
“She didn’t look like those demons,” Andrew said.
“Not like demons haven’t worked together before,” Xander said.
Buffy leaned in. “Guys, we need to find out what she knows. She followed Andrew here. She’s got our number.”
Giles cracked the silver seal on the envelope. “Perhaps this can shed some light.”
He removed an invitation from the black envelope. It was printed on a sheet of vellum so thin they could see through it. The page bore the same silver trident seal embossed across the top.
“Fancy,” Buffy said. “What does it say?”
Giles read over it, silently first, then gave them a rough demon-tongue-to-English translation:
“You are invited to Triumvirate’s annual alban elfed, um, that’s Autumnal Equinox, September the 22nd, 16:29.”
“That’s it?” Xander asked. “No dance afterward? No slaughtered innocents? Just a yearly demon shindig?”
“It’s not just a party,” William said. “It’s a gathering. A convergence. Demons from all over Europe will show, and you can bet the evil equivalent of the bloody Queen of England will be there.”
Andrew brightened. “You could go,” he said.
“What?” Xander and William said in unison.
“Spike could go. Pretend to be evil. Work his way into their Inner Circle,” Andrew said.
William shook his head. “Bad plan. Find another way.”
“But it would work...” Andrew went on.
Giles interrupted. “You were never wholly convincing anyway. Far too incompetent.”
“I what? Incompetent...” William said, scandalized.
“No, it’s true,” Xander said. “You were mostly just annoying.”
“I was a villain!” William countered.
“To what, stuffed bunnies?” Xander said, enjoying himself.
“I almost killed everyone in this room,” William growled.
“Watch word being ‘almost,’” Dawn said.
“Besides, you never almost killed me,” Giles said.
“Oh, but I wanted to...”
Buffy raised her hands. “Hey, we’re getting off topic. I think...”
“I am not playing the part of double agent. Those plans always turn out wrong,” William said. “Any doubts on that, just ask Angel.”
Everyone fell quiet. William picked up the invitation and pretended to read it.
Andrew, still sullen, said, “I thought you were scary.”
“Thank you, Andrew,” William said.
“Andrew thinks Teletubbies are scary,” Dawn said.
“Guys,” Buffy said, taking the conversational reins in hand. “We’re looking at this the wrong way. We’ve been stabbing in the dark at an unseen enemy. That invitation is our ticket to make them visible. If Nighna was using Andrew, trying to get close to us, we can turn the game around on her. We have the invitation. I’m going.”
William scoffed. “First off, Annie Oakley, this is not like Willie’s Roadhouse back in Sunnydale. Slayers don’t just stroll into Triumvirate...”
“That was then. This is my town now,” Buffy said.
“Second, you’re forgetting the juiced up vamps we encountered last night. They’re likely to be out en force. Emphasis on the force,” William said.
“Oh ho. Hold up. Juicy vamps?” Xander said. “Did I skip ahead in this story somehow? Or fall behind?”
Buffy turned to him. “No. And yes. We fought some extra powerful vampires. But we dusted them just the same.”
“Not just the same,” William objected. “Remember the arm on backwards and the Flying Summers on trapeze?”
“They’re dead. We’re not,” Buffy said. “We can debate this later…”
“Maybe this is a matter for the Super Slayer Friends. Get all the girls on board,” Xander suggested.
“No,” Buffy said firmly. Then, “Bringing the whole troupe kinda blows the subtle black ops angle,” she said.
“Then I’m going too,” William said.
“But you just said...” Dawn interjected.
“You can’t,” Buffy said. “There are a couple differences about you they are bound to notice.”
“Look, you want to crash this party right and proper or not?” William said.
Xander sighed heavily. “Smooth. Spike just turned your covert operation into a date,” he said. “I think we should all head to Shepherd’s for an afternoon pint. Andrew, you look like a man who could use many drinks. What say we wallow in shared misery?”
Andrew pouted. “Yeah. Okay,” he said.
As Xander and Andrew left the room, Giles returned his attention to the invitation.
“I’m not certain this is the best course of action,” he said. He ran his fingertips over the raised letters of the words.
“Neither am I,” Buffy admitted. “But at least it’s a plan.”
“Nonetheless, I feel we should at least notify Willow. See if she can figure out what’s behind the new vampire potency, and whether it has any connection with the spell she witnessed,” Giles said.
Dawn got up. “I’m on that. I’ll give her a ring,” she said.
Giles put his glasses on. He leveled his hazel eyes on Buffy’s. “It’s time for your girls to take their own patrols,” he said.
Buffy was shaking her head. “But Giles,” she said.
“Whether you feel they are ready or not, it’s time. It is far too dangerous for any of you to be out there alone,” he said.
“But we’re not alone,” Buffy said. Her heart ached.
“Buffy, you cannot shelter them forever. They are Slayers, and you have taught them well,” Giles said. He patted her head in a fatherly sort of way, then left the room.
Buffy struggled against tears, but tried not to look like she was struggling with tears. They are Slayers. The words echoed in her head.
“Well,” Dawn said. “Kennedy will be happy to hear that.”
William slid from the table’s edge, stretching his arms. “Kennedy doesn’t feel the weight of it, now does she?”
“The weight...” Buffy mumbled. She looked up at Dawn. “What did I do to them?”
Dawn thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Buffy. It’s okay. They’re good, and strong. And they’ll be fine. All you did was open a door.”
That didn’t make Buffy feel any better.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I love the thought of Spike reverting to some of his former Victorian ways.