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Spike refused to elaborate anymore than that.


“I’m goin to go wait for the whelp at the mansion, keep him out of trouble til you get there.”








Buffy almost smiled. She was sure that under normal circumstances Spike wouldn’t have been at all concerned with keeping Xander out of trouble.


Xander and Spike had met a few times in the last couple of weeks, and none of their meetings had gone particularly well.





Xander had taken an instant dislike to him. Initially because of Buffy’s friendship with him, then other sources of irritation emerged; the way he commanded Giles’ respect, the way Willow was so impressed with his magical ability and the fact that even Oz seemed to enjoy his company, in his own inexpressive way. Then Cordelia had met him, and been immediately smitten. She had taken to wearing even shorter skirts than usual, and turned up to all Scooby meetings on the off chance he might be there.





Spike had noticed Xanders discomfort and flirted with Cordelia mercilessly just to get a rise, which had the unintended effect of annoying Buffy no end.








Their bitching and sniping helped to lighten the mood sometimes but Buffy felt like knocking their heads together more often than not. Giles actually had once, though he’d apologised to Spike profusely afterwards and often tended to secretly agree with his criticisms of Xander.








After Xander had broken into a military facility and acquired an impressive weapon for Buffy by impersonating a soldier Spike had started to call him GI Idiot, which, even though he called it a term of endearment, did not go down well.








“Make sure you keep him safe Spike, while I’m off visiting god knows who to get god knows what.”








Spike adopted a very concerned, and completely fake, expression. “I’ll try pet, I’ll try bloody hard. But he’s really quite dim. One day he’s gonna walk right onto my fangs... and there’s not much I can do about that”








Buffy’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.








Spike reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Buffy’s ear. Her skin tingled where his fingers had brushed it.





“Hey slayer, chin up ok? Everythin will be ok in the end, I’d bet my pert ass on it.”








Buffy nodded and returned his steady gaze with her own, she could see his confidence in her and it gave her new strength. She could do this. She had to.

















As soon as Buffy entered Giles’ dark and silent apartment she knew she wasn’t alone.





She sighed and said wearily “Who ever you are, I know you’re here. I’m tired, and I’ve got kinda important plans for tonight so can we get this over with?” There was silence for a horribly long time. Buffy had assumed that if whoever was here was a threat to her Spike would have given her a heads up. At least she hoped he would have... his jokes could be a little twisted sometimes...





“Buffy Summers I presume?”








To her annoyance Buffy jumped at the unexpected sound.








Out of one of the darkest recesses a man stepped forward. At least Buffy thought it was a man. He was short and plump, dressed in an old fashioned suit from which his too large body was attempting to escape. His features were so bland and indistinguishable Buffy began to feel that he might not be human at all. On his head an absurd hat perched somewhat precariously and did a poor job of disguising his very hairless head.








The overall impression was a creepy one but Buffy tried to


act as though he hadn’t unnerved her at all. “This is she. What can I do for you? Or, more accurately, why the hell are you here?”








He made a tutting sound. “Dear oh me oh my Miss Buffy, there’s no need to be rude! I know you have places to be dumpling but I’m here to help.”








Buffy had been called dumpling and she was not amused. As


far as she was aware dumplings were weird British balls of stodgy dough, she was fairly sure that being called one was not a compliment.





She crossed her arms and threw him a hard stare. “How exactly are you here to help? And more to the point, who are you?”








The man smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “Well dear girl, my name is Tarot, and I’m your friendly representative of the Powers That Be. I must say, despite your inhospitable attitude I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance. Originally you were going to be met by one of my associates, but then Young William decided to start playing his own game and, well it was decided that I would be a more appropriate messenger than Whistler. My good luck it would seem! Well well well, the slayer. What an honour!”








Buffy ignored the last part of his speech, she didn’t know who Whistler was and now it seemed she wouldn’t meet him anyway so she didn't much care. “What game is Spike playing? What do the Powers want?”








The man was watching her through heavy lidded eyes which seemed to be emitting their own kind of eerie light. When he laughed Buffy went instantly cold.








“Well to answer your first question, The Powers That Be would like to stop this impending apocalypse, which I think is rather jolly of them. This is for you, to help.” He pulled out an impressive looking sword, seemingly from thin air. “It won’t kill Angelus for you, but it will spill the blood you need.”








Buffy furrowed her brow. “The blood I need?”








Tarot’s smile broadened alarmingly. “Yes dear girl, if Angelus has opened the portal using his blood, only his blood will close it once again, and, of course, it takes more blood to close a demon portal then to open one, tricky little things as they are.”








He handed the sword to Buffy and she took it whilst trying to keep the maximum amount of distance between them. It was heavier then it looked, the blade long and broad. Buffy felt sick and her fear of what was coming began to slowly rise again. She would have to kill Angelus. Kill Angel. She couldn’t let herself think about it.








As though reading Buffy’s mind Tarot suddenly looked all sorrow, “Yes yes, sad business, terribly sad. Angel was to be such a fine champion! We had such plans for him....” he wiped a non existent tear from his eye, shook his head and brightened again “Oh well, no use being a melancholy Melanie, these things happen. Lets get on to the subject of Young William! Now he is a favourite of mine. I’ve always taken a special interest in him. He always does the unexpected! Such an annoying quality for one such as myself. I read people you see dear, it’s what I do.” He looked very proud of himself, his chest puffing up so much his buttons very nearly made a break for it. “Most people I can read in a heartbeat but William.... well he is a real hum dinger of a puzzle isn’t he!





And he does like to interfere. Sometimes we’re glad of his interference, it works in our favour, but sometimes he makes an unexpected move and it changes the whole game!” Tarot sighed. “Everything has to be worked out again... its a lot of paperwork. I won’t tell you what a tizzy his birth threw us in to! My, talk about unexpected!”








Buffy couldn’t deny being intrigued by what Tarot was saying, but she was well aware that every second she was stood in Giles’ apartment the more likely it was that Angelus and Drusilla had opened the portal. “Could you get to the point sometime soon? The Real Worlds on and I don’t want to miss it.”








Tarot’s eyes glowed brighter. “I’m afraid I don’t understand the humorous reference, but I will round up what I’m saying for you my dear. We thought we’d finally found a way of keeping young William in check, after all, if he can’t tell anyone what’s coming they can’t very well prevent it now can they? And he can’t do everything alone... We’ve tried blocking his visions before but they seem to be beyond our power to influence... which is odd. And now the wily wee lad has blocked his mind, and his sight, from The Powers! How he managed it we’re just dying to know. We don’t know what he may do, and we don’t like it. We don’t want him to mess with this order, not one bit.” Tarot smiled at Buffy like an indulgent, but horrifically creepy, grandfather. “Now dear little slayer, I’m sure you don’t want William chucking our whole plan in a puddle now do you?” He took Buffy’s lack of reply as an agreement. “Excellent. If you could just make sure that it is you who fights Angelus, and you who closes the portal, that would be just peachy.”








Buffy nodded without being completely sure of what she had agreed to or why she was agreeing with it. She felt compelled to nod, and so she did.








Tarot beamed at her. “Excellent! Now if I could just ask one teensy weensy personal favour of you, before you toddle of to save the world?”








Buffy shook her head which had felt suddenly foggy and eyed him suspiciously, “What kind of favour?”








Tarot reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a large deck of cards. He walked, with a slight woddle, over to Giles coffee table and placed the deck to one side of it.








“These are tarot cards dear girl, they are my main tools for reading people, they give me an insight into the people they are and how their future lies. If you would indulge me, I would like you to spread the cards, however you wish, and pick one for me.”











“Has Spike ever done this for you?” Buffy had no idea why she asked that question, it had just felt important that she should.








Tarot was clearly surprised by it. “Young William has done this for me, several times as a matter of fact.”








Buffy walked over to the cards. “If I pick one for you, you have to answer a question for me.”








Tarot visibly flinched, but answered calmly enough. “Of course.”








Buffy felt a little foolish, spreading the cards across the table, but she still didn’t stop until she felt they looked right.








She looked at Tarot and he nodded encouragingly, “You can close your eyes if you like dear, use your senses, pick the one which calls to you.“








Buffy didnt really get what he meant until she felt a sudden, strong pull towards a particular card. She picked it up with trepidation and her fingertips tingled at the contact. She didn’t turn it over though, not yet.








Tarot was raised up on the tips of his toes and leaning forward so much Buffy was convinced he’d topple over any second. She could see his fingers twitching, desperate to take the card from her.





She held it close to her chest. “Before I give you this you have to answer my question.”








Tarot swallowed noisily, “Yes yes dear, what did you want to know?”








Again, the question came to Buffy without her really thinking about it. “When Spike did this for you the first time, what card did he pick?”








Tarot’s eyes widened, but he answered after only a slight hesitance. He seemed puzzled by his own words as he said, “Actually, every time William has done this for me he's picked the same card. Another sign of his uniqueness undoubtedly!”








He didn’t continue so Buffy asked, “Which card was it?”





Tarot smiled in such a way that Buffy was genuinely scared of him for the first time.





“He picked number thirteen. Every time he’s drawn a card he’s picked number thirteen. Death.”








Buffy felt ice dancing down her spine. “What does that mean?”








Tarot shook his head, “I’ve answered your question, deals are deals dear. Let me see your card.”








Buffy’s usual argumentative instinct had vanished. With hands she couldn’t keep from shaking she turned over her card.








Tarot sucked in a sharp breath. “Well, how interesting.”








Buffy didn’t know what her card meant, or why it made Tarot so agitated. It certainly didn’t seem as bad as pulling the death card to her.








She handed it to Tarot. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”





“No no dear, off you go. It was a pleasure to meet you. I wish you good luck.”








Buffy mumbled some thanks and made a hasty exit.








Tarot had not looked at her when he had spoken, and he didn’t look at her as she left. His eyes remained riveted to the card in his hand.





Number 11. Justice.







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