[Reviews - 116]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 3138 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
There was some concern about Spike's strength. Here's an answer. *giggles*
Identity

Spike walked through the encampment with his guide. In the last week the former vampire had heard legends and stories that had been passed through countless generations. Many had to do with ancient shaman that had helped to fend off the human demon hybrid. Vampires. Here in this quiet dusty land, the first Slayer had been born, but not of the womb.

She had been a favorite, one of the daughters of a leader, and was captured by the blood drinkers, drained and turned just after being declared of age for marriage.

The leader refused to let the shaman destroy the demon who looked so much like his daughter.

For several nights the demon tried to coax an invitation from her family and community, but none would kill her, or entertain her with an invite. She swore that she was still the daughter the clan had always known. She begged them to let her be one with them again.

The shaman would only allow her to return, if she survived the trials provided by a demon they called upon. She agreed and disappeared into the cave. Days later she reemerged, and was once again alive, but changed, and was shunned for her changes.

Her strength had made the women fearful, and the men jealous. She was able to detect the demons when they came near. On instinct began to chase them down, and destroy them. She lived longer than any Slayer today could, but she was alone in every way.

When she died, another in the clan was called.

The second Slayer called eventually was alone as well, and so began the line of the Slayer.

"If this is all how The Slayer came about, then what does that make me? And why don't I feel different." Spike couldn't make sense of any of this.

Jumar walked slowly with the confused man. The blonde had many questions, but the young tribesman himself could only answer what he knew. "After the Chosen One was transformed, the shaman of that time believed that her soul had been the one controlling the demon. As though her soul had too much strength to be controlled."

The dark man stopped when they came to his tent. "If you had not told me of your life, I would believe the same of you." Jumar measured up the blonde in a long intense stare. "Still. You passed the challenges. Possibly your soul has always been there, sharing in your life, but the demon impeded the feelings of remorse and guilt."

The blonde shook his head. "I don't know."

"Maybe it is time for you to seek the truth. When the others in the world came to know of the Slayer, they formed a union." Jumar shook his head. "No, it was council."

"The Council of Watchers," Spike corrected. "Yeah, I've met a few in my day."

"Is there one you trust?"

With out needing to contemplate whom he could trust, Spike answered, "One."

Sunnydale California

Buffy took the dark blue cap off her head reading "SPD Trainee" as she entered the Summers' home. "Dawn?"

The youngest Summers came bounding down the stairs. "Hey Buffy. How did training go?"

Buffy scrunched her face. "They call this training? It's so easy." She flopped onto the couch. "Oh and today Robert tried to cuff me. You know, as a demonstration."

"Did you get him back for giving you a hard time yesterday?"

"I'd say so," Buffy giggled. "I cuffed him."

Dawn's eyes widened and she sat on the chair across from her sister. "Buffy, you didn't!"

The blonde just sat smiling smugly.

"Buffy. You can't go around showing up the instructor. Somehow I'm thinking that won't buy you any points."

Buffy's smile slipped into a frown. "He started it." She crossed her arms like a defiant child. "Saying that I was too small to be able to stop a jackrabbit from taking off with a carrot."

England: four weeks later

The female attendant scrutinized the blonde in line for customs. If any character looked suspicious, the dark blonde did. His short brown leather jacket was an unnecessary item to wear in the warmth. He was unshaven, and looked unkempt all around with rumpled dark locks growing out from an obvious bleach job not taken care of.

The man moved through the line, waiting for his turn. Once he was in front, the attendant called to him. "Sir, would you please come this way."

The man was lead to a table. "Please unlatch your bag."

He did as he was told and waited for his belongings to be perused by the woman in the 'Airport
Security' uniform.

Upon inspection, she found nothing out of the ordinary, except for a few sticks fashioned into points. "Sir, would you mind explaining these?"

Easily, the explanation came. "Sure, pet. They are souvenirs from my stay in Africa. This" He held up a finely carved stake. It had intricate symbols carved into its shaft. "This was given to me by a future leader of one of the tribes I visited."

She studied the unusual carvings. Although the item itself could cause severe damage, she could see nothing wrong with the explanation. "Very well. May I see your passport?"

The young man held out the official document for stamping. The paperwork hadn't been nearly as difficult to obtain as he thought it would be once a contact had been provided.

"And how long are you planning on staying in England?"

"A few weeks."

"Thank you Mister," she read over the document, "William Worthington. I hope you enjoy your stay."

She stamped his passport, and Spike walked away, and out into a country he had not seen in daylight for more than 120 years.

~~`~~

Rupert Giles was only resting his eyes. He swore he wouldn't fall asleep while waiting for the time to come.

He needed to visit the coven in an hour to see how the recovering Willow was doing. He laid back on the recliner in his small living area.

His home was simple, as it had been in the states. One bedroom, small kitchen and dining area. A suitable bath and a living room. All in all, quite serviceable.

According to the coven, Willow would soon wake. Then would come a deeper healing. One where she would need to come to terms with her past actions, and reintegrate into a society that less than two months ago, she had wanted to destroy.

Unfortunately, his eyes were heavy, and it had been a long day of research.

The Council had made it clear that there was little for him to do, so he had taken it upon himself to go through several journals of different Slayers, watchers, vampires... anything to keep his mind off of the weak young woman.

Just as he was about to nod off, a knock came from his front door.

"One moment," he called while slipping his glasses on. The knock came again more vigorously.

"Yes. Just a moment." Giles said a bit perturbed by its insistence and opened his door.

The young man just stood there silently as though he was expecting something.

"Can I help you?" the Watcher asked, then took a better look at the face of the dark blonde standing in the daylight holding a black bag.

A barely audible whisper came from Rupert's lips. "Dear Lord."

Spike stood, a broad smile stuck on his face. "Hello there, Rupert." Giles stood there in stunned silence with his mouth open.

"Well, you goin' to invite me in?"

Giles, now in automatic Watcher mode shut his mouth with a clomping sound and shook his head. "I don't believe I will."

Spike shrugged. "Have it your way then." And walked through the door past the stunned older looking man.

Sunnydale CA

Buffy sat at the large round table in the Magic Box next to Dawn. She was trying to memorize the codes for each law. The physical aspect of her training had not only been a breeze, but actually fun. It was the school part, the actual books and paper that was causing her some degree of difficulty. She was out of practice since dropping out of college.

The reconstruction of the magic shop was going well, and Anya was, as always, looking forward to the money. "And here, I'm going to add three more rows of shelves." She motioned to the newly painted wall, the brass statue of a round bellied Morvan's Fertility Goddess held in one hand. "The more merchandise we have on display, the more money the store can make," she said, as if it were a new revelation.

"That's great, Anya," Dawn nodded even though she was getting bored after an hour of the excited shopkeeper‘s descriptions of the many additions and improvements that would be made.

Two overweight men walked past them with more wood. The shop was being rebuilt to look as it had before. Anya had stated, "I read that customers enjoy returning to a familiar place when shopping."

"Over here." She motioned to the men showing them she wanted her shelves built against the wall.

One of the men looked over his shoulder as he walked past, and set the lumber down on the floor below the newly constructed loft. "This is for steps to the upper level ma'am."

"Oh," she frowned.

Then Xander walked in with more lumber. He headed over to the empty wall. Anya smiled to herself, and went back to unpacking the new merchandise that would be displayed. Slowly the two had formed a tentative relationship. He'd even arranged for a few of the guys that worked with him too help his ex-fiance rebuild. Not for free of course, but still. "I'd say in three weeks we'll be up and running again."

Buffy looked up from her book. "Just remember. My commencement is in four weeks. Then I'll be Officer Buffy."

Xander looked over his shoulder from his crouched position above the wood that he was measuring. "Is the Mayor going to be there?"

Buffy grinned. "Yeah."

Then her face dropped. "Oh God. Is the new Mayor a demon? Or trying to become one?"

"No." Anya answered evenly.

Everyone turned in her direction.

"What? You think I wouldn't check on these things?"

England

Giles stood at his open door, mouth once again agape, while Spike made himself comfortable on the chair from which The Watcher had just abandoned.

"Aw, come on. Close your mouth. I need some help."

At that, Giles shut his door. "Why is it whenever you need help, you end up on my doorstep. And would you mind explaining why I couldn't keep you there? Outside? On the doorstep?"

Spike picked up one of the books on the small table beside the chair, and flipped through the pages ignoring their contents. "I'll tell you. If you'll help me figure out who I am."

"Excuse me?" In perfect watcher style, Giles took off his spectacles and began to clean them.

Spike set the book back down on the end table. "It's a bit of a story, and you aren't going to like a lot of it..."

Giles walked to the couch, and sat. "What happened?"

Spike went over everything. From the first kiss after Sweet left, to his actions in the bathroom. Strangely enough, Giles did not jump out of the chair and try to strangle him. He continued on with his trials in Africa, and what he had learned from Jumar.

When he was finished, he was surprised to see The Watcher sitting calmly, and that only thirty minutes had passed.

"Well, Buffy didn't say a thing about you and Anya. Of course you and she yes, but not Anya."

Spike sat up in his chair. "You talked to her?"

"Yes. More than a month ago. There was trouble, with Willow."

"Red?"

And Giles quickly filled Spike in on the events of Tara's death.

After both men were through, Rupert checked the time. "I need to go. It's time to check on Willow."

Spike stood up. "Could I go with you? I always liked the wit-...Willow."

After some thought, Giles decided it could do little harm, and the two men left.

They made conversation during the drive. "Buffy is going to be a cop?"

"Yes. From what I understand she's doing quite well."

"Right nice of you to help her out while she's learning the law."

Giles simply smiled. "The man, Jumar, he said that his people believed the Slayer was born of a vampire."

"Yeah. Something about her soul being too good, or strong for the demon to take the body. He had some notion that the same was for me. But then there's no explanation for me doin' all the killin' I did."

"I see." Giles ran through the facts Spike had given him. "Tell me, how do you feel about Buffy now. After."

Spike gazed out the window. "Same as before. I love 'er."

"And guilt?"

Spike looked from the window, to the man beside him. "It was strange. I felt terrible, but it all stopped when the beetles crawled out o' me." He sighed before adding. "All but what I did to her..."

Giles waited before he spoke. "But there was no moment of wondering where you were. A 'lost in time' feeling?"

"No. Knew where I was, why I was there." Angel of course, had been disoriented after he was ensoulled. Both knew this.

Giles pulled to the side of the road and parked in front of a large brick house. "I would say your friend in Africa is right then. The demon is gone, but your soul must have been strong. You retained your memories because, unlike most vampires, your soul was never fully ejected from your body. The demon in the cave simply prepared your body, and forced the demon out."

Confused, Spike cocked his head to the side. "How do you figure that?"

"The beetles. Many rituals, particularly Egyptian, will use them to prepare a body for resurrection. They 'eat away' the death to prepare the body." Giles turned his head to face Spike. "Of course that is in laymen's terms."

"Of course." Spike agreed even though he’s never heard such a thing.

The two exited the vehicle as Giles continued. "And I'm sure you'll find that if you harmed someone now, you would have guilt and remorse." Then Giles stopped halfway up the stoop to the front door. "Can you harm people now?"

Spike hadn't even considered it. He was a little busy trying to deal with the breathing, sunlight, heartbeat, and a need for hamburgers on a regular occasion thing. With a slight shrug, and complete abandon of any morals he had, he punched Giles in the nose lightly. Or at least he thought it would be lightly.

"Bloody hell!" the watcher yelped as he grabbed his nose. Spike leaned forward.

"I'm sorry, Rupert. Still having trouble remembering my strength."

Giles looked back at him not holding his head in writhing pain, but actually apologizing. Giles looked up at him. "I'm sure I'll be fine. Quite all right."

He twitched his upper lip a few times to be sure his nose had not broken. A few drops of blood fell, but it seemed to be intact. He took out his handkerchief, while ascending the last few steps with Spike walking beside him. "I believe that answers two questions."

He knocked on the large wood door and cleaned the blood from his nose.

"The chip doesn't work. What's the other question?"

"Who you are." Giles looked straight ahead. "Spike definitely knew his strength... William."

The dark blonde turned back and looked seriously at the watcher. "I think I prefer Spike."

The door opened to reveal the old woman with flowing white hair Giles had spoken to upon each visit. The woman smiled at him then noticed the blonde beside him. "We are blessed to have one of the chosen among us."


Chapter End Notes:
Everyone is being so kind with reviews on this story. I just want to say how appriciative I am for any words people take the time to type up and post. So, thanks my wonderful readers. You are awesome!



You must login (register) to review.