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Author's Chapter Notes:
RL has been chaotic, so it has taken me forever to get this chapter ready for posting. Here it is finally.

To Sotia, thank you SO much for the great beta job. I don't know what I would do without you!
The following morning Buffy was still feeling a bit dizzy with all the things she had found out the night before. Her mom tried to ask what was wrong with her, yet again, and, looking out of the car window, Buffy gave her the same answer as always: “There’s nothing wrong, mom. I just have a long day at school ahead of me. Don’t worry.” Buffy turned to look at Joyce and smiled; she knew her mom meant well. “I mean it. Everything is just fine.”

Joyce sighed with defeat; life with a teenage daughter was sometimes unbelievably frustrating. At least Buffy seemed to be doing slightly better at school. She hadn’t burned anything down in a while, and that alone was a huge improvement.

Buffy stepped out of the car and into another sunny day at Sunnydale High. All the students looked so normal and carefree when Buffy let her gaze slide over the crowd. Girls in their wannabe-designer outfits, few genuine ones in the mix, the brainiacs, the cheerleaders, the outcasts—the boys in their own little groups: geeks, jocks, rebels, Joe-normals—everyone blissfully ignorant of what went on in their town. Every step she took across the yard made her feel more and more different. She lived in this world, but it really wasn’t hers. Buffy-world was filled with fighting for her life as well as for everyone else’s. It had incredibly disgusting- looking demons and world domination schemes in it. Honestly, dealing with plans that involved enslaving all humans was not what a seventeen year old girl should be doing. Thanks a bunch for picking me for the job…

Almost bumping into a boy, whose name she couldn’t remember, shook Buffy out of her thoughts. She averted the impact, spun around halfway, and headed towards the front doors, trying to find the right headspace for the day and forget the evil that lurked in the dark.

Willow and Xander were sitting on a bench outside the school, waiting for Buffy. As soon as she walked close enough, both jumped up, smiling.

Buffy heaved a sigh and put on her best-friend smile. Just act normal. They can’t possibly know what you’ve been doing. “Hi guys! You were waiting for me, huh?”

Xander threw an arm around her shoulders, which he only did these days if Cordelia wasn’t around—and now she wasn’t. “Can’t start the day without the Buffster, can we?! What’s the what on the monster fighting front?”

Well, of course they couldn’t just be interested on how Buffy the girl was doing—no. Ever since Willow and Xander had found out that she was the Slayer, that was what they were mostly interested in. Maybe she wasn’t just that interesting as merely her normal, human self? Buffy gave herself a quick mental kick on the rear. She shouldn’t think like that. She had good, loyal friends, so what was she bitching about? This time her smile was more sincere. “Same old: ugly demons, stupid vampires, tired Buffy. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

That seemed to be enough for Xander, but Buffy wasn’t so sure about Willow. She didn’t say anything more, though; just walked inside the building with them.

“We should go see Giles.” Willow directed her words to Buffy. “Yesterday, after you decided to skip the last classes--for a good reason, I’m sure--he was in deep research mode. Apparently, there are signs of something big happening.”

Buffy almost stopped in her tracks; that was not good. There was something big happening, yes, but she wanted her friends to stay as far away from it as possible. Angelus was in a suspicious, highly dangerous mood, and wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone coming too close to his great plan. She managed to keep on walking but no longer listened to what Willow or Xander were saying. She simply let herself be led to the library, hoping that Giles had found some ancient prophecy that involved any other kind of monsters than vampires. Yes, she would rather handle a fucking prophecy than let her friends and Watcher anywhere near Angelus and the vampire clans. They would only end up dead, every one of them. If by a miracle they wouldn't, their getting involved would probably reveal her current ally, and that—that--would also be of the bad. Of the worst kind of bad. Giles would probably call the council, and Willow and Xander would never talk to her again. And still they would keep getting involved more. They were brave—stupidly so sometimes—and would want to help saving mankind even if it meant working without the Slayer… who kept getting involved with vampires.

“Buffy! I was just about to go look for you.” Giles was barely visible, a stack of books in front of him. “Where were you yesterday? I was expecting you to train with me.” He stood up, balancing yet another book on top of the pile, looking like he hadn’t been sleeping at all lately. Clearly, he hadn’t shaved, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were a little on the bloodshot side.

Like fighting you with a stick is any kind of training. “I had some things to do. I can’t be here all the time. I’ve got a life, you know.” She put her purple backpack on the table and sat next to it, wondering just how good of a liar she could prove to be, if she had to.

If Giles thought something wasn’t quite right with his Slayer, he didn’t show it. He moved some of the books to another table, took one in his hand, and leafed through it until he found what he was looking for. He rounded the table and showed Buffy a drawing. "This is what I've been working on. It is a symbol of unknown origin. It has been exactly five hundred years since it was last documented seen. Does it look familiar at all?"

Buffy could honestly say she had never seen the symbol before. It was round, like a medal, and there was a snake-like spiral in it. “Nope, never seen it. What is it?”

Giles turned the book to himself again, looking more than a little frustrated. "I wish I knew. The only thing I do know is that, when it was last seen, it was in the possession of a vampire named Daerta."

“Never heard of him, either. Or is it a she?” Maybe this was a random thing that had nothing to do with her problems with Angelus. That would be so great…

"Daerta was an extremely powerful old vampire. He was the leader of his kind and had countless followers." Giles put the book away with a yawn, quickly covering his mouth with his hand when another yawn hit him.

"So he was the leader of his clan back when the Slayers had to probably wear a long gown when they kicked vampire butt. Why does that concern us, now?" Buffy's legs were dangling over the edge of the table, and she was absentmindedly checking up how much her nail polish had chipped. She had the ditzy blonde image to maintain, after all. Okay, maybe part of it was true, but she knew how to play it to her advantage.

Giles' attention was quickly back on her, and his glasses were just about to get a good polishing. "How do you know about the clans? You never want to read any of the material I want you to read."

Oh shit... Sometimes her mouth was quicker than her brain. "A while ago I had a sudden sprout of actually caring about the stuff you usually do—don't ask me why—and I might've read a couple of books. One of them must've mentioned the clans. At least the word clan. I mean, where else would I have gotten it? It's not like I have a habit of stopping to chat with vampires before I stake them." All of it came out without her taking a breath, and, when she stopped to take one, she found Willow, Giles, and Xander all staring at her with rather baffled expressions. She quickly put on a bright smile and her best California Cheerleader look, complete with twirling a lock of hair around one finger. "I know. Sometimes I'm weird. Also, I don't really remember that much about those books, since most of it was Greek to me. I'm definitely leaving the research to you, Giles."

That apparently did sound more like the Buffy they were used to, because Xander and Willow laughed, and Giles smiled his usual reserved smile and patted Buffy's shoulder. "I will be more than happy to do it. I'm sure I'll figure this symbol out eventually. You should keep your eyes open, anyway; you might see it somewhere while patrolling."

Buffy had a much better idea—one she couldn't share with them. She would ask Spike. If he had been able to find out all those things about the Warriors, one measly symbol should be easy. He might know it already, being a fairly old and powerful vampire. Now she would just have to avoid any more slips of her tongue and hope that symbol business wouldn't actually be anything serious.

***

Spike was beginning to get sick of both his unnecessary wheelchair and Angelus' pompous attitude. That annoying idiot with the overgrown forehead had taken the clan-leader role very seriously and expected everyone to show him proper respect, which made Spike want to hit him with the hated wheelchair. Oh, how he waited for the moment when the Slayer would dust that bugger!

Since he had time—lots of it—he used it to get as much information on the Warriors as possible. He would have to play this just right if he wanted to avoid getting dusted himself. Spike was fairly sure the Slayer more or less trusted him to stay in line, at least until Dru and Angelus were gone. Now he hoped she would be able to make the others believe that too.

He knew two ways of contacting the Warriors, but the second one was out of the question, since it required magic and neither him nor the Slayer were big with that. The first one was simple, but he would only see if it really worked when Buffy tried it. Then the game would truly begin. The game he planned on winning. Most preferably, it would end with him as a clan leader, master of Sunnydale and its hellmouth, and the slayer of three Slayers. He had some minor troubles with his motivation to kill this Slayer, but Spike was sure the desire to snap her neck would be back in time for his victory.

Spike closed the book he had been reading and put it on the bed before starting to pace the room. He really wanted to just walk out and hunt, but he had to use the wheeled torture-device that made him feel like half the vampire he really was. What he really needed, was a drink. Actually, two drinks: first some blood and then something of an alcoholic nature.

Sighing with momentary defeat, he sat in the wheelchair, unlocked and opened the door, and wheeled to the hall and through it, to the big living room space. Angelus was luckily nowhere in sight, as was Dru—both probably hunting. Everyone who was around, seemed busy. A huge table had been brought to the room and it was covered with books, maps, schedules, timetables, and so on. Spike knew that those were just a part of the big picture, the part Angelus could allow everyone coming there to see. The core of his project was well hidden, and only a few chosen ones—his most trusted minions—were allowed to see the details of how the clan leaders were arriving and when, where they would stay, and how they would be protected. Angelus didn't want there to be even the tiniest chance of his former sweetheart ruining the whole thing.

Spike had no interest in looking at the papers; he knew what was in them already and much, much more. It was amazing what money, promises of future favors, and threats could get out of a vampire. Of course, he usually staked his informers; everyone would think it was the Slayer's handiwork, anyway, and it minimized the risk of Angelus finding out that his grandchilde was snooping around.

He got out without anyone even asking where he was going and ditched the wheelchair once he was far enough. One more day, and he would see if he had played his cards right.

One more day.


TBC





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