Jezebel:
Wednesdays are my big class day, so by the time I got home I was exhausted. I wanted a friggin' shower and my bed, the sooner the better. Which, of course, meant I had 15 papers to grade, Laurie needed help with her homework, Apple wanted to start patrol early, and the mortgage bill came in the mail.
Typical. I'd checked my cell phone messages on the way home, and I'd have gotten a ticket if I was driving because I almost walked into traffic. When I hit the machine in the kitchen, sure enough there's another one. "Jezzie, it's me. Call me ASAP, I've got a visitor from the Council on hand, and she has your name. We need to talk." Yep, same message. I'd have ignored just one message, because I'm in too foul a mood to deal with those assholes tonight; but Merry obviously needs me, so I guess I gotta deal with it. Frickin' A.
I call the neighbors to watch the girls before I do anything. Sure, they're 16 now, but I know exactly what kind of trouble two teenage girls can get in. Besides, after dealing with The First I don't take chances. Apple barely made it out of the hospital alive; she'd never have recovered if she wasn't Called.
Then I call Merry's apartment, where there is, naturally, no answer. Her cell is answered by a girl. "Meredith's phone, Willow speaking."
"This is Jezebel, Merry called me earlier, said it was an emergency. Can I talk ta her, please?" I don't know any Willow, and I don't remember Merry mentioning the name. Council rep? Maybe, but she sounds awful young.
"Jezebel, great. Um, Merry's driving right now; we're actually driving towards you, we were coming over to pick you up for dinner, since we couldn't get a hold of you. Except, here you are, talking to me, so we did get a hold of you. I think we're gonna head back downtown now, because I promised my friend Spike I'd meet him, and it's getting late." Okay, maybe the Council is recruiting younger these days. "Hey, sorry, didn't introduce myself, not really I mean. I'm Willow Rosenberg, I work for the newly reformed Council of Watchers, and I was sent here to…"
Aright, I know this drill, I heard it from Faith. It's a fuckin' miracle Merry's in the car with this kid, and I need to know if it's voluntary. "Willow, please put Merry on the phone. Now." I use my patented Mom voice, and sure enough Merry's on the line in a little over a second.
"What'd you do, use the bleeding Mum voice on 'er?" Merry giggles, and I shake my head. You'd think she'd outgrow giggling at some point. "Listen, I want you to meet up with us for dinner, Willow's smashing, and I'm thinking 'bout taking them up on their offer. You could at least get a good meal before you tell them to go to 'ell."
My head is screaming, and I'm rubbing my forehead so intently I almost forget to answer. "Merry, I'm exhausted, an'…"
"Hey, Jezz, didn't you used to know a guy named Spike?" Merry's voice is too innocent, and it sets my mental wheels in motion. She knows very well that as long as she's known me I've never met anyone named…
Spike. William the Bloody. Shit, it can't be the same… I mean, I wrote my thesis on him, and now I'm supposed to be meeting him for dinner? And why would the Council want us to meet with him? Hey, wait a second, are Merry and I dinner? “No, but I think I know who you’re talkin' about.” I answer, trying to figurewhat to say in case Willow overhears.
“Ah, well, no big. Just thought the name sounded familiar; Willow said he was a Brit. You sure you don’t know him, maybe as William Spenser?” I know Merry entirely too well; she knows exactly what she’s telling me, and how to say it without raising suspicion. In another life, she’d have worked for the CIA instead of the Watcher’s Council, she’s that good.
“So, where should I meetcha?” I may regret this, but in case my hunch is right, and I’m about to meet William the Bloody, I think I’ll clean up a bit. I should probably call Penelope, too. I'm pretty sure this means I've won our bet.
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Of course, by the time I freshened up, got the girls settled, and fought my way through traffic I was the last one there. I spot Merry on the far side of the lobby, and as I move closer my senses scream ‘vampire’. I focus on him, and as soon as I meet his eyes I know who he’s thinking of. He’s somehow less impressive in person; I thought he’d be taller, or at least more threatening. The redhead must be Willow, and there’s one other person…Oh. My…
“Wesley!” I tackle him; I can’t help myself. I’ve known Wes since I was 18. We were very close for years, then for some reason we lost touch once we were both out on assignment. He’s been one of my best friends, my sometimes boyfriend, and the most scarily efficient research partner I’ve ever had. I missed him; I really, really missed him. I was sure he’d been sent back to England.
When I pull back to look at him, Wesley’s grinning. I’m pretty sure it’s the same smile splitting my face. Even if they try to feed us to the vamp later, this moment is worth the after. "Oh, my God, Wesley, I thought you were dead. I'm so happy to see you." I feel like jumping up and down, like dancing, like squealing like a little girl.
"Jezebel? What in the name of God are you doing here? I'd thought you were at the Council." Wesley's happy, but it takes him a mo' to catch on to heavy emotional situations. I’m surprised he hugged me back in public; he’s not one for PDA’s. He looks kinda awed as his eyes trace over my face. "You're alive! Oh, thank heavens."
This time he’s the one who pulls me close, and I have to remember I’m stronger now, and if I hold him tighter I’ll break his ribs. Wes finally pulls back again, and turns toward the rest of the group. Willow and Spike have almost parental smiles on their faces, and I’m sure they've got the wrong idea, but I don’t care right now.
While I’ve had my back to the vampire, Merry's eyes were locked on him. Least one of us is on our toes. He's not paying attention to her; he's watching Wes and I. Wes drapes his arm behind me, which surprises me. He does make formal introductions, though, which doesn't. "Jezebel Neves, may I introduce Willow Rosenberg and, er, Spike."
Aright, he has to know who Spike is; we used to work on our theses together. He saw all the pictures and drawings I had in my old apartment. Hell, Wes was the first person to point out that I bear a more than passing resemblance to Drusilla. I look at Wes, and he ignores me. Typical. Of course he's not answering questions with all of them here, that's not Wes' style.
We all shake politely, and soon Willow's herding us outside. I drive Wes, while the other two go with Merry. After all, if they already got the wrong idea, might as well work with it. Before I pull away from the curb, I'm asking questions. “You know who that was, right? Does he know you know who he is? And what’s he doing involved with the Council?”
Wes settles back in his seat. “Yes, I do know who we just met with. Willow Rosenberg is one of Buffy Summers’ closest friends, and also a very powerful witch; she performed the spell that Called you and the other Potentials. Meredith Cunningham was the girl you mentored at the Academy; although I never met her, I do recognize the name. And of course, William Spenser, otherwise known as William the Bloody or Spike.” His accent is precise and soothing, and I relax. I’ve just gotta play the game his way. Until I get my answers, at least.
“Spike has spent the last several years working with the Slayer, as an ally on the side of good. About two years ago he was ensouled.” His eyes meet mine. “He chose to have a soul, he went through trials, and won it. Since I left the Council, I’ve been working with another ensouled vampire. Angel.”
I know the history of souled vampires better than Wes. I think sometimes he forgets he doesn't know everything. I specialized in Vampire Lore when I was with the Council; well, I didn't actually get certified, due to a change in leadership, but I studied more than enough. I got very lucky; my teacher was the Council’s foremost expert on vampire history. He taught me more about vamps than the Council thought was right. I know about the prophecies concerning the Order of Aurelius. I certainly know the name Angel, or Angelus.
“So, what, you're working with him, but not with the Council anymore?” Frickin’ A, I like being left outta the loop, even less than I like Quentin Travers.
“Yes, well, I had a rather unpleasant experience in Sunnydale, and I went out on my own, and eventually started working with Angel.” I know better than to press him for more details, Wes has a tendency to clam up. I’ll make due with Cliff’s Notes for now. “Jezebel, we’re about to go into battle. Have you ever heard of the Circle of the Black Thorn?”
The rest of the drive, Wes gives me the lowdown on their involvement with Wolfram & Hart, prophecies he’s sadly misinterpreted, and the battle plan. All in all it leaves me with more questions than it answers, but few have to do with William the Bloody.
When I pull up to the restaurant, our ‘party’ is waiting outside. Merry is normally skittish around witches, but Spike and Willow have drawn her into conversation and she seems comfortable. Good for her. I’ve gotten increasingly uncomfortable. Spike smirks as we join the group. “Ay, Watcher, we’d started to think you two ran off. You do realize I was lying when I said this was a social occasion?”
Wes sighs, which is a gift he has. He can say more wit' a sigh than I can in a whole rant. “Yes, Spike, I’d rather hoped our dinner with two Slayers and a witch on the eve of the Apocalypse was business related.”
His expression is carefully blank, and you have to really know him to catch his teasing. Willow and Merry are both frowning a bit, but Spike’s smirk fades into a genuine smile.
Spike nods and leads us inside, trailed closely by Willow and Merry. We bring up the rear, Wes’ hand on my back. It’s a little too familiar right now. Leave it to my boy Wes to bring me down so quickly after our reunion. I don't know how to tell him, but his analysis is way off. Sigh. He’s always been so sensitive about his intellectual skills.
I’m hurt that he never called me; he knows damn well I know vampire prophecies. Considering how many researchers died in the explosion last year, I may even be the world’s leading authority on vampires. Well, the leading mostly-human authority, anyway.
Once we’re seated, Willow opens the discussion. “Well, first I’d like to thank all of you for coming.” She smiles. “Now, does everyone know what's up? As of now, I mean.” We all nod, and Wes looks like he’s about to interrupt, but before he can she keeps going.
“What I was thinking was, I'd do an individual protection spell on each fighter. I’ll look it over again later, and see if I can’t enhance it. I’ll put the whammy on you guys about 12 hours out. Supposing my whammy is working.” Spike chuckles, and she whacks him on the arm again. He seems less surprised this time.
"I say we send the Slayers with Wes and Charlie-boy." Interesting input from the vampire, protecting the most vulnerable fighters like that. Interesting indeed.
“I must say, I object to being coddled, and I’m sure Charles would agree.” Wes sounds mad, and I can’t blame him. It used to drive me crazy to be covered in a fight when I was a Potential.
“Object all you bloody want, last time I checked you and Charley-boy were the weakest who plan on fighting. Am I missin' something?” Spike’s just as mad as Wes, and Merry has tensed next to me. I can almost hear her internal mantra, ‘don’t antagonize the vampire’. 'Cept she’d probably throw a 'bloody' in somewhere for good measure. “Look, Watcher, I know you can take care of yourself, but this ain’t gonna be a picnic. You don’t have some kind of death wish, do you?”
They lock eyes, and I get the feeling I’ve missed something. Willow must know whatever it is, because she’s also staring at Wes. The tension is broken by the waiter, and we scramble for our menus. Spike orders food, but I guess it'd be strange if he didn’t. I find the first pasta dish without meat and order that.
Once the waiter’s gone, Merry picks up the conversation again. “I’m confused about one thing. This guy, Lindsay, do we really trust him to help, after he just tried to kill all of you? Shouldn't we get rid of him, instead of trying to work together?”
I have no clue what she’s talking about, but Willow and Spike are nodding, and Wesley looks like he’s sucking a lemon, which is not a good look for him. Willow answers. “Well, I’ve actually been wondering that myself. Wesley, you know the most about the Lindsay situation. I mean, you were around the last time he was, before now, I mean. Do you think that would work; just getting him out of LA? I could send him to my school in Rio.” She raises her eyebrows at him, and he frowns back.
“I have no idea if you could keep him under control, or convince him to assist us willingly. He’s a wild card; none of us truly understand his motivations. He has carried a vendetta against Angel for years, and his current state of mind worries me a great deal. Then again, he has also been helpful in the past.” Typical Wes; stick to the party line, and when in doubt, evade the question.
“But if he’s being held magically in Rio, where the Senior Partners, or the Order, or Circle, or whoever can’t get to him… You know, if he’s out of the equation, you’re all better off.” Willow’s persistent; I’ll give her that. And I really wish I knew what the fuck they're talking about. “It’s really up to you, Wesley. Either way.”
“What exactly do you mean, either way?” I can’t help butting in, and I’m sure my frustration is showing, but I don’t care.
Willow looks a bit sheepish. “There’s a variant on the spell I developed to suppress a Slayer's powers when we need to; it can extract magical powers from a person. We could probably use that to turn the guy into a null, possibly just using the spell on him for long enough would kill him.”
Willow, suddenly scarier than she was a minute ago. Spike takes her chin in his hand and turns her to face him, examining her carefully. “You sure you’re not bloody evil Willow?” Willow laughs, but doesn’t try to get her chin back. I wonder if his lack of body temperature feels weird.
“How can you tell? You weren’t around for the evil Willow episode.” She’s being very direct for someone who’s referring to herself as evil. And we're trusting someone who had an 'evil episode'?
“I got the instruction manual on how to tell if you’re goin’ all ‘black magic’ on us.” Spike sounds less than concerned. “And, I can always call Rupert if I need anything clarified; cell phone’s right in my pocket.”
Willow finally pulls away from him. “Well, no worries, I’m me, and I’m totally black free at the moment. And, really, it seems like the instruction manual would have said you’re better off calling Xander if I fall off the wagon.”
He winces. “Nothing you did, even if you joined the other side and dusted all of us, could make me call the whelp for advice.” He sounds disgusted, Willow just giggles.
“Anyway, Wesley.” Willow turns her attention away from the vamp. “You need to make a decision tonight, because I’ll have to take care of it ahead of time.”
Wes nods but doesn’t comment. I’m about to take advantage of the lull and ask some questions, but the food comes about the time I open my mouth. Figures. We all dig in, but I can't stop looking at William the Bloody, right there in front of me, eating a regular human dinner with impeccable table manners. I'm pretty sure Merry's having the same problem. Willow and Wes are cool with it, but Willow turns greenish when she notices the bloody juice on his plate from the severely undercooked steak he’s eating.
“I don’t know how you can eat that.” Willow winces as he takes another bite of mostly-pink meat.
“Vampire.” Spike mouths at her.
“Onion rings.” Willow replies. Spike arches an eyebrow at her, because his mouth is full again. “You know, the fried vegetables you eat by the pound, people food without all the…” She waves at the blood on his plate.
“Completely different.” Spike responds after he swallows. “Those just taste good. This is actual food.”
Willow shakes her head and goes back to her own food. Merry’s still watching the vamp, and my peripheral vision says Wes is brooding over his decision. Now’s good a time as any to put my two cents in.
“So, Wes tells me you've heard of the Shanshu prophecy.” I direct my comment to the whole table, but I get the full attention of William the Bloody. Almost makes me wish I was on the menu tonight. Almost. “If you want, I can take a look at the records, see what your chances are. I’m sure you thoughtta that, with the stakes so high an' all. I’ll just need you to answer some questions.” I grab my notebook, pushing my plate away. As long as I have the floor, I prefer to hold it.
The others are frowning in confusion, and Spike and Wesley are gaping. At least they’re not interrupting. “Why do you need… What records?” Wes is usually uneasy when he's confused, right now he's getting high marks for being calmer than I expected.
“The records of vampires who’ve Shanshued. They’re part of the collection we ‘liberated’ from the archives when Travers took over.” I'm talking to Wes, so I'm trying to be gentle. “I’m not sure where the prophecy you got is from, but I must tell you, you've been working from an altered translation.” Hopefully, I sidestepped having to ask why in Hell he'd trust tainted source documents.
I guess none of them are following too well, so I start from the beginning. “Shanshu is a very ancient word, which means essentially, to turn away from supernatural stasis, and live the natural order of life, aging, and death. In very general terms, of course, a direct translation is nearly impossible due to the development of language as we know it. The prophecy foretells the fate of vampires that embrace the value of human life. Again, in very simple terms, a vampire who can prove that they value human life by satisfying certain criteria, including regaining a soul, will be returned to their living form as a reward.”
“Wait just one bloody minute there.” Spike, evidently, got his voice back with a vengeance. “You mean to tell me this has happened before? Then what in the bloody hell was all that stuff about ‘two souled vampires cannot exist in the same time, it's destroying the natural order of the universe’.”
I take a deep breath; I wish I didn’t have to say this in front of poor Wes, his ego is taking a pounding at the mo', but it needs to be said. “Actually, that ‘stuff’ was a buncha bullshit. Wolfram & Hart's smoke and mirrors. The things that happened when you re-corporealized were likely after-effects of the spell they used to bring you back. It could have been worse, other spells might have blown up LA, ripped the space-time continuum, even sent you back to human infancy. Re-corporealizing is tricky shit.”
They all look stunned, and I snag a broccoli floret outta my dish so I have something to do. “What about that thing with the cup?” Spike asks.
“Wha' cup?” I have no clue. Wesley didn’t mention any cup, but I know he had to leave things out, the drive over wasn’t that long. Except, Wes looks like he doesn’t have a clue either. Spike seems okay with my ignorance, and doesn’t ask anything else.
“So wait a minute. Does this mean Spike gets to be human again?” Willow is starting to look kind of excited, and Spike smiles faintly at her.
“Possibly. There's lots of criteria that need to be satisfied, I'll have to look at it again to find out how close Spike and Angel are. It’s possible that you both have a long way to go, or that one or both of you is ready.” By the time I’ve finished my answer I’m looking at him again, and good lord, why does he have to have dimples?
Wes saves me from going glassy-eyed over the vamp by interjecting another question. “So, this has happened before?”
“Well, yeah, of course. The prophecy is ancient, older than the Slayer even, possibly older than the written word. In the time before there was a Slayer, it appears to have happened more frequently. Vampires are, by nature of how they’re created, closer relations to humans than most other demons; although the first vamps who defended humans are thought to have been protecting their food source. Seeing value in humanity as a resource often serves as a first step towards valuing the existence of other species for themselves.”
Merry interrupts me before I can get into a more in-depth overview of the prophecy. “So the Shanshu applies only to vampires, it can’t apply to Slayers, or other demon-human hybrids?”
That’s different. “Um, well, as far as I can remember the language lends itself pretty directly towards vampires, and as I said, it was written before the time of the first Slayer…”
“But Slayers have come back from the dead before.” I really wish she would stop with the goddamn interruptions. “In the old tradition, it was common practice for the Slayer to drink the blood of her demon kills, even the blood of vampires. If the only specific criteria are demon possession and blood drinking, it could apply.”
“I suppose.” I’ve never considered this possibility, but Merry’s the Slayer expert, she’d know if there were a precedent far better than I would. “Do you have a specific case in mind?”
“Yes, actually. In Gaul, about 80 years before the common era, a Slayer died closing a Hellmouth. She came back from the dead, and I mean, literally, she was dead, we’re not talking ‘she’d fallen into a coma before they knew what comas were’. She was disemboweled. Anyway, she came back, but without her powers. Normal human again.”
"Nope, that would have had to be something else; disembowelment isn't a supernatural death."
We all fall silent, because there’s nowhere good this conversation can go with food on the table. Willow’s looking green again; I’m sure hearing about someone being gutted with that bloody steak on the table did nothing for her appetite. I'm actually surprised Merry's kept her food down without being uncomfortable. Thankfully, before conversation can resume the waiter comes back to clear. Spike and Wes order scotch, Merry and I get coffee, and Willow asks for another diet soda.
Wes is the first to break our silence. “So, what other books did you liberate? And why, is the better question?”
I sigh, because I don’t want to fight with Wesley tonight. I’m pissed at him, but for being gullible, not because he’s done anything wrong. “When Quentin Travers took over as head of the Council, he went on a mission to destroy the most ancient records on vampires, mainly anecdotal accounts. He also went after what we call the ‘vampire family tree’. It’s very spotty, and we’ve never gotten confirmations of the accuracy of most of what does exist, but it’s original purpose was to estimate the number of vamps in the world, and their ages. Possibly to discover clues as to why there are variations in their abilities.
“The Council library put many of the records into storage when Travers was announced as the new Head Watcher, whether they meant to keep them off his radar, or to avoid his wrath is anyone's guess. As soon as he stopped accepting specializations in Vampire Lore, we began removing the texts from Council property. As I told you when I chose a new specialization so I could stay with the Council, I had every intention of fighting the changes once I had seniority.” I’m looking at Wes hard enough to bore holes in his scull, hoping this sinks in.
“Imagine if you had no one like me around to tell you which prophecies apply to this situation, and how to tell if a vampire is prepared for Shanshu. If we hadn't saved those texts, you'd be up shit creek right now."
Spike chuckles, and Willow silences him before I can. "Vampires and other demons have history, the same as humans do, the same as the Slayers do. As an organization dedicated to ridding the world of demon threats to humanity, we need to be able to understand that demons have a capacity for good, the same way humans have a capacity for evil. Seeing them in total as instinctive killers makes the Slayer’s job harder. Or in your case, the do-gooding demon fighter's, but still." Wesley has the courtesy to stay quiet at least, but I know damn well that he's disagreed with me on this in the past.
"Look, Wes, I don't want to argue with you. I want to help. All I need right now is information; answer some questions, and tell me where to show up tomorrow." Thankfully, no one buts in, and Wes decides to go along with me. Getting my questions answered is a helluva pain in the ass, but I drag fairly honest answers out of Spike and Wes, sometimes by way of Willow. My boy is surprisingly protective of Angel, nothing like the Wesley of five years ago, who had no use for vampires. He's come a long way.
Once I get my questions answered, I beg off and head for home. It's only 9 p.m., but I'm itching to start work on this. If what I suspect is actually going to happen, it'd be good to have a clue.
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At home again, Laurie is finished with her homework and in bed, but Apple is waiting on the couch. "Hey, you, wanna save the world?" Upbeat works well on Apple, I learned that pretty much right away.
"Don't I save the world before bedtime every day?" She shoots her big gap-toothed grin at me, I just roll my eyes.. "Do I get out of school?" You'd think after all these years as her Watcher, she'd learn I'm not so easy to play. Except, she and Laurie could be a huge help for the research and the fighting, and I refuse to stop them because I'm overprotective. So of course, she's going to get her way.
"Depends; do you wanna spend your time researching and training, or would you rather sit in class?" I can play her right back, thank you. Girl's got no problem doing the research, but she hates training enough to go to school. Complete opposite of Laurie.
Apple stretches and shifts, which knocks the notebook off her lap and pulls her shirt askew. She fumbles to pick up whatever she was working on while she's answering me. "Sure, I'll train a little. What kinda research is that urgent?"
During all the chaos last year; when Apple nearly succumbed to The First, and Mary Alice actually did; I figured we'd all die before we had normal lives again. Of course, three Slayers living in the same house can't remotely be called normal, but it's better than my poor Potential trying to bleed herself to death, while my best friend puts a gun to her head.
I plop down next to Apple. "Have I ever told you about the Shanshu prophecy?"
She gives me a very typically teenage look. "Um, no. Why's this thing so important; Laurie's got a French test tomorrow, ya' know."
I shake my head at her and get ready to explain the whole damn thing, when the phone rings. Of course. At this rate, it's probably the IRS. Still, can't ignore the freakin' thing, it might be Merry. "Y'ellow."
"Jezzie? Hey, it's Penny. Why'd I need to call you back right away; do you have any idea what time it is in Tuscon?"
"Yeah, it's 9:58 here, so it's about 10:58 there. And you're the one just getting home, so don't give me that 'it's too late to call you back' bit."
She chuckles. "Alright, sure, fine, whatever. Wassup?"
"I need you to get me some books as quickly as possible. Right now, if you can find a way. Last I heard, Mindy Westwood had them, so I though they might have been sent to you."
"Yeah, I've got all of her books. All of them; I even have those stupid mystery novels she used to read, her mom just packed up everything and sent it along. What did you need?"
"I need everything you can find on the Aurelian prophecies; specifically the Graanfield texts and the Ptaryet Codices. I need to find out about The End."
"Jesus, you're keeping me awake for this? Jez, you know as well as I do that The End is dependant on the arrival of the Guardians, and the Twin Souls. Now, sure, it would be great if you could figure out the identities of the Guardians. The Twin Souls, though, are an impossibility. I still say, the whole thing is a metaphor. It's never gonna happen."
"Penelope. I don't know how to tell you this, but…The Twin Souls are in LA. The End is coming."
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Originally, this chapter was supposed to belong to Wesley. Jezebel, however, is a hoyden (warning, she's also a potty-mouth), and decided to cut in line. We'll get to Wes, and Angel; no need to worry your pretty head about it, gentle reader. In the meantime, please review, it's wonderful for my complexion.