“You don’t have to answer it, pet,” Spike reminded her gently, his hand reaching out to slip into hers again, but this time with no intent but to offer her his support. “Let him worry. He was going to betray you.”
Apparently, those were the wrong words to actually convince Buffy not to answer the phone. She frowned, troubled, as she said softly, “Was he? Do we *know* that?” She paused, waiting for an answer that no one in the car could offer her. “He probably *is* so worried,” she agreed quietly – though that was not exactly the part of Spike’s words that he had wanted her to agree with.
“Deserves to be,” he muttered, but put up no further protest as she pushed the button to accept the call and raised it to her ear.
“Hello?”
There was complete silence on the line for a long moment.
“*Hello*? Giles?” Buffy persisted, frowning with concern.
Suddenly, the idea of leaving her Watcher – also not on the best of terms with the Council – anywhere near said Council when they found out that she and the others had fled, did not seem like such a good idea after all. What if they thought he knew where they were? Surely the Council wouldn’t do anything to hurt Giles when they couldn’t get to her…?
Yeah. And surely they wouldn’t place the teenage girl that they were supposedly duty-bound to help and protect in a helpless position of mortal danger in which she could easily be killed, either.
Right.
“*Giles*! Are you okay?” she demanded into the phone, her voice taking on a slight tremor when he still had not said anything.
Finally, a sign of life on the other end of the phone could be heard – a quiet release of a deeply held breath, followed by a sound that was suspiciously similar to a sob. That alarmed her more than the silence. She had never in all the years that she had known him heard Giles cry – and yet the sound was unmistakably her Watcher’s voice.
“Giles?” she whispered again, her eyes widening with dismay.
Finally, he answered, his voice quiet and shaky, barely over a whisper. “Buffy…dear God…you’re all right…you’re all right…”
The words seemed more a reassurance to himself than a question.
The sound of actual words coming from her usually much-more-eloquent Watcher was comforting to Buffy, who released a weary sigh of relief, suddenly overwhelmed with guilt for obviously scaring him so badly.
Was it possible that her suspicions had been completely wrong?
“Yes, I’m all right. I’m fine. Look, Giles, I’m sorry we scared you, I didn’t mean to, but I just can’t let the Council find us right now, and I know – I know you want to help, but…”
“*Buffy*.”
She was silent for a moment, a cold, frightened feeling going through her at the heavy, serious sound of his voice. “What?” she whispered, almost afraid to hear what he would say.
She listened quietly for the next few moments to the Watcher’s unusually rambling, emotional explanation of the situation, her eyes growing wide with shock, sober with the impact of what had nearly happened to her and the ones she loved.
Once she had managed to make sense of what Giles was telling her, sorting out the facts of what had happened after she had left among Giles’ near breakdowns and frequent, desperate apologies, the older man finally stopped talking, and she had to force her frozen mind to backtrack and replay the question he had just asked her.
“No – no, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” she told her Watcher, her voice quiet and expressionless.
“Buffy – Buffy, what?” Spike said quietly, frowning anxiously into her eyes, trying to understand what was going on.
“No, Giles – I know you had no idea. I know you never wanted – yes, I know, but – Giles…” Buffy ignored her mate for the moment, trying to get her point across to the nearly distraught, insistent man she was talking to on the phone. “Look – they could be following you. I’ll call you once we get – where we’re going. But I won’t tell you where we are.”
There was a brief silence as the Watcher argued his point again, before Buffy broke in firmly, “*No*, Giles. I know you only want to help. But the connections you have – certain things that you can’t change – mean that…well…you just *can’t* help me right now.”
She was silent for a moment, and no sound came from the other line either, as there was really nothing left for Giles to say. Finally, Buffy nodded, relief and satisfaction showing in her face, as her Watcher had clearly accepted her decision, though he obviously did not want to.
“We’re okay. We’re safe. And I’ll call you and keep you posted…okay?”
Another brief pause.
“Okay…just go home. You don’t know anything…okay? Just act completely normal around them as long as they’re there, but – be careful, okay?...Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”
There was another pause, and Buffy’s eyes widened further in surprise, before softening with affection and tears. “Of – of course…I – love you, too, Giles…bye…”
Spike’s eyes widened as well, as he glanced at the phone his mate was just closing, and that back at her face, realizing that the uncommon verbal affection between the Slayer and her Watcher was just another sign that something was seriously not right with this picture.
“What is it, pet? What happened?” he asked her.
She looked up at him as if just remembering that he was there, and then forward at her mother, who she just realized had pulled the car over on the side of the road and was turned almost completely around in her seat, watching her daughter with protective concern.
Buffy was silent for a long moment before she replied in a slow, distant sort of voice, “You were completely right about the Council, Spike.” She looked back at him suddenly, a sort of wondering realization in her eyes as she added softly, “You saved our lives.”
“Buffy, what are you talking about?” Joyce asked, impatience mingled with fear in her voice. “What did Mr. Giles have to say?”
Buffy looked away from them both, her wide, shell-shocked eyes focused on the back of her mother’s seat as she hesitated before beginning her explanation.
“I was right. Giles was going to tell the Council where we were when he left. Apparently they had been in touch with him, and were supposedly still a couple of hours away. So he went to tell them where we were, and then he was going to use the revealing spell to stall us – to keep us there until they could get there.”
“Bloody wanker,” Spike muttered, anger flashing in his sapphire eyes. “I can’t believe he’d sell you out like that!”
“He – he wasn’t trying to betray me,” Buffy said softly, shaking her head, a sad look in her huge emerald eyes. “He really thought they could help – and I was making a mistake by not wanting their help. So – anyway – he called them, on his way to his house to get the supplies for the spell. Took his time about it. Stalling, you know…”
Her casual shrug belied the shock that was still in her eyes as she continued the story. “So – he finally gets back to the mansion – about an hour after he left us there – and – and…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked at the floor, swallowing hard.
“What, Buffy? What is it?” Joyce pressed her, leaning in closer to her daughter in a subconscious desire to shield her from whatever painful knowledge was causing her so much distress. “What did he find?”
“Explosion.”
The simple, brief answer took both the vampire and her mother by surprise, as the horror of what could have happened that night sunk in for both of them as well.
“The – the Council blew up the mansion. They thought we were all still inside. They – they really wanted to kill me.” Buffy’s tearful eyes looked up at her mother with a stricken look of horror. “Mom…*Dawnie*…” she glanced down at her sleeping little sister. “My God – they could have killed us all. They almost did.”
“But they didn’t,” Spike quickly reminded her, moving in closer to wrap his strong arms around the suddenly very vulnerable girl. “They didn’t, Buffy. We’re all fine. You got us all out of there, and we’re fine.”
“Giles said – he called them, when he found the – the fire – what was left of the mansion…” Buffy went on, leaning into his comforting embrace but not quite returning it, her eyes still distant as she thought about what her Watcher had told her.
“He thought we were all dead…he was furious, out of it, called Travers screaming and hysterical – and Travers told him that – that the Council had to start over. Do the whole original ritual they used to make the first Slayer again, with a new demon. Just – start from scratch. He said – sometimes sacrifices are necessary…”
Her eyes were automatically drawn to the oblivious innocent sleeping beside her mother, and Spike followed her gaze to Dawn’s peaceful face.
“Bloody bastard,” he muttered, fury in his low, restrained voice. “I’ll kill the bleedin’…”
“Buffy,” Joyce interrupted urgently, cutting off Spike’s rant before it could get started. “Does the Council know that we are still alive?”
Buffy shook her head slowly. “Not unless they’ve got Giles’ phone bugged or something. He hasn’t seen any sign of them since he found the mansion. They weren’t around. He has no idea where they’re staying or anything, but they have to have already been in town whenever he told them where we were – because the mansion was destroyed an hour later.”
“And – he’s not going to say anything?” Joyce’s tone was hesitant, apologetic, as if she hated to suggest the idea that Giles might deliberately betray Buffy now that he knew what the Council was capable of – but she just couldn’t help it.
Buffy met her mother’s eyes as she shook her head. “No. He’s not. He – he had no idea what they were going to do in the first place…and he’s just going to act like he thinks we’re dead. He – he wanted to come and join us, but…”
“No bloody way!” Spike cut her off indignantly. “He’s lucky we’re not going back just to…”
“Spike!” Buffy snapped, her edgy emotions making her tone harsher than she had intended. “No!”
The vampire instantly was quiet, looking away from her, a bit wounded by her reaction. It was in his nature to be protective, defensive of those he cared for – and now, he cared for Buffy more than anyone else in the world. She was his mate – his world – and his every instinct cried out for him to return to Sunnydale and work his vengeance on the man she had trusted like a father, who had nearly brought about her death.
The very thought of what could have happened was enough to send him into a murderous rage.
But the very sound of her sharp, commanding tone was enough to suppress it immediately.
Buffy’s realization of what he was feeling, through their close physical contact and the claim that bound them, brought her out of her distance, her shocked state, and back to the present moment. Very deliberately, she relaxed herself into Spike’s encircling arms, her hand coming to rest gently over his, caressing it in a soothing way – and she was relieved to feel his misgivings gradually melt away under the reassurance of her affection, as she went on.
“No,” she said softly, shaking her head. “No, Giles really didn’t mean any harm. He honestly didn’t think they would hurt me. But – but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to have him here with us yet. And anyway, if the Council followed him – total badness. No, it’s better for him to stay there and play dumb if the Council questions him.”
Joyce and Spike both silently agreed, and they all fell silent for a few moments, trying to process the shock of this latest development.
“Well,” Joyce said quietly, turning back around in her seat. “At least if they think we’re dead – that’s one less threat to worry about, isn’t it?”
She wanted to comfort her daughter, to pull her into her arms and hold her like she had when she was a child – but the sight of Spike’s tender, protective embrace, the way Buffy relaxed herself against him and accepted his comfort as right, and natural, and just what she needed…
It was enough to help Joyce see that things had changed – and to accept it.
Her daughter was not a little girl anymore – she was a woman.
A full-grown, relatively mature, for all intents and purposes mystically *married* woman.
“I saw a sign a few miles back…we’re about a hundred miles from Sunnydale, and there’s a motel at the next exit…you wanna stop?” she asked, her back turned to her daughter as she turned the engine back on.
“Yeah,” Buffy nodded. “I think it’s time to call it a night.” Her voice was exhausted, hurting.
Spike’s heart hurt for her at the sound. He knew that it was quite a blow to realize that her Watcher, even accidentally, had almost caused her death and the deaths of all she held dear. If she had not emptied the mansion when she had, every last one of the Summers’ and the Scoobies would have been killed.
With his highly combustible nature, even he would not have survived.
He just sat there with her in the back seat, holding her close as she tried to come to terms with what had happened. After a few moments, he noticed that she was shaking. Concerned, he pulled slightly away from her, moving to push her slightly back and look at her face.
To his surprise, she gripped his arm tightly, not allowing him to pull away – and he froze.
“Buffy?” he whispered cautiously, his eyes widening as he felt the struggle within her rising.
The powerful emotions she was experiencing were giving her demon a means to come forward – but she did not move, did not speak, her eyes closed, her grip neither tightening or loosening.
Buffy was fighting the Slayer inside her for all she was worth.
“Joyce,” Spike said in a cautious, even tone, his voice still quiet and calm. “Maybe you’d best pull over again…”
Just then, Buffy suddenly jerked out of his arms, pushing him away from her hard, knocking him forcefully against the far door. He flinched slightly, expecting a physical attack. When none came, he looked up at her hesitantly – only to see her huddled against the opposite door, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms crossed over her knees, her head buried, and shaking like a leaf.
“Buffy…?” he began softly, edging closer to her.
“*Don’t*!” she snapped, her voice trembling with anger and fear, looking up at him and shrinking farther back against the door.
He immediately understood.
For the moment, Buffy was winning the struggle. It was difficult, and traumatic, and who knew how long she could hold the upper hand? And yet – a slow smile spread across Spike’s face.
He didn’t say a word – not yet. He didn’t want to do anything to anger the demon, or to give it more room or cause to surface. But this was actually quite an accomplishment, a positive sign – one that would help them when it came time to perform his counter-claim.
Maybe it was the fact that nothing had actually been done to provoke the demon; Buffy’s strong emotions were giving it a door, but he had not resisted her, Dawn was asleep, and there was no reason for the demon itself to be upset.
But Buffy was fighting the Slayer demon, without the help of her little sister – and winning – definitely a promising development.
Still – a little help couldn’t hurt.
As Buffy’s shaking slowly started to subside, and it became obvious that she was winning the fight, Spike leaned cautiously up to the front seat to give Dawn’s shoulder a gentle shake.
“Come on, Bit. Time to wake up.”
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