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Chapter 20

“Spike? Tell me, how’s this gonna go down? Should I just charge at you now with my guns all a-blazing, or should we ring a bell like they do in the boxing ring before I start wailing on you? Maybe we should have a countdown, something like: one, two, three; let’s get ready to rumble!”

“You’ve never sparred with anyone before?”

“Nope. Not really.”

“But you plan on wailing on me?”

“Yup.”

Spike bit back a smirk as he watched Buffy unzip her hoodie and toss it aside, revealing her tight tank top underneath. She squirmed anxiously as she stood before him on the padded mat that covered the floor of the Magic Box’s training room, rocking her weight from the balls of her feet to her heels and back.

His girl had been on edge all morning, but somehow her jitters had no negative effect on her mood. If truth were told, she’d been surprisingly agreeable from the moment she’d kissed Spike out of a sound sleep.

“It’s time to get up,” she had whispered into his ear sweetly. It was followed by another brush from her soft lips and a mumbled confession. “I hope you don’t mind that I kinda broke into your crypt this morning. I raided the place. I brought back clothes, toiletries, a bag of blood—heck, I even have that goop you love to put in your hair. Now you can shower, dress in your own clothes and eat. Now we can get moving. I’d really like to be out the door in thirty, so if you could hustle, I’d appreciate it.”

“Pet, you’ve got to be joking,” was his initial sleepy response, but once he’d opened his eyes, finding his Slayer looking both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed—at five in the morning—he’d thought differently.

And well-before his allotted thirty minutes were up, they were walking to the Magic Box hand-in-hand.

“Hey, Spike?”

“Yes, my love?” he answered, taking off his jacket, piling it on her discarded sweatshirt.

“What about when Giles dresses up in his puffy suit and I hit him?”

“What about it?”

“Would you consider that sparring? He really tries to fight back in the beginning, but he usually ends up cowering…in a fetal position. I guess it does count as a training exercise no matter what, because a lot of demons do that. They cower when they see me.”

“As they should.” He and Buffy exchanged closed-lipped grins before Spike continued, “Slayer, I wouldn’t consider that puffy suit as anything more than your Watcher making a complete fool of himself.”

“Well, he does try. Giles trains me the best that he can. Without him…” She looked down at her shoes before mumbling, “Did I tell you the Council threatened to deport him?”

“No, sweet, you didn’t.”

“Guess I forgot to mention it yesterday,” she said, ending her sentence with a heavy sigh. “Okay, so there’s been no real sparring in my past. Will this be a problem for us?”

“Not at all. I like the idea of being your first.”

“I’m sure,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You know, speaking of my actual first, Angel and I did have an intense session of yoga once, but I doubt you’d--.”

“Hold on. Yoga?” Unable to stop himself, Spike let out a snort. He scratched his brow with his little finger as he chuckled. “That poof would…bloody yoga. Oh, but it was an intense variety of yoga, wasn’t it?”

“What’s wrong with yoga? Hey, it was hot. It was at the height of our angst. There was touching when there couldn’t be a lot of touching. Warm, fuzzy, heavily repressed feelings were ignited and—damn it, Spike, will you stop laughing?” With her own snicker, she stepped forward to slap at his arm. “Yoga with Angel was hot. It was super hot.”

“Right. I can imagine.” Holding a hand to his chest, he spoke in a high girlish sounding voice. “Oh, Angel the way you hold that pose? That downward-facing-fucking-dog? It makes you look dreamier and more bloody constipated than ever before! Oh, be still my raging teenage hormones! And blast the curse that keeps you from settling between my underage dimpled knees!”

“You’re horrible.”

“But on point, am I not?”

“First of all, I don’t sound like that,” she said, leaning against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Secondly, I don’t talk like that. And third, I wasn’t that young.”

“Yes, but besides those few meaningless details…? Come on, love. Own up.”

“Okay, you’re pretty…on pointy,” she admitted with a little smile. In her flat sneakers, she stood on her toes as she briefly kissed his lips.

“I knew it.”

“God, you’re right all the freaking time,” she mumbled, nuzzling her face into his chest as she hugged him tight. “I should start hitting you now, shouldn’t I?”

The hint of regret in her voice tugged at his heartstrings. As she continued to cling to him, Spike kissed the top of her head. “Pet, as much as I’d like for you to cuddle on me all morning long, I promised you a warm-up. Here you’re all dressed up in your naughty-girl pigtails and those silly short pants…” He ran a hand along one of her braids and sighed, “Let’s put ‘em to use, Slayer.”

“Naughty-girl pigtails? Silly short pants?” Placing her hands on her hips, she backed away, just as Spike knew she would. “These are the braids of a girl suffering from a very bad hair day because her big brute of a boyfriend interrupted her shower last night. My entire beauty routine went to crap because I had to entertain you. And my pants aren’t silly or short. They’re wide-legged capris. This is how they’re supposed to look. I could be wearing spandex, you know.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“You’re aware of that? What’s supposed to--.”

“But what happened on top, love? You’ll deny the Watchers the pants that’ll cling to your ass like a second skin, but you’ll give them all-access to your tits?”

“Excuse me? Stop right there. I might have some cleavage showing, but it isn’t an obscene amount.” Spike opened his mouth, but she held up her hand and glared. “Don’t say another word. This fashion critique is over. I really think I should hit you now.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Along with his challenge, he gave her a wink. He started to circle around her at a slow pace and without any instruction Buffy followed his lead. She kept after him step-by-step, determined not to break their eye contact as they circled each other defensively.

“You’re going down. You dissed my clothes. My hair. You riled me up on purpose.”

“Possibly,” he smirked, and she laughed as she charged at him. Spike ducked beneath her rapidly swinging arm again and again. He took a few swipes back with no intention of hitting her; he just wanted her to react. And she reacted beautifully, blocking and dodging each assault. She rolled on the mat and swept his feet out from underneath him, dropping him hard to the floor.

“Sorry, honey,” she sang. Then she was on all fours, hovering above him. “You okay?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Sitting back on her knees, she balled up her fist and hit over his heart with a soft thump. “You’re lucky this stake in my hand is imaginary, you dummy, or you’d be dust right now.”

“Didn’t know you were wielding an imaginary stake. You’re dangerous, kitten.”

“Yeah, well...” A soft blush colored her cheeks as she stood. She leaned over to offer Spike a hand and that’s when he attacked. He grabbed her at the bend of her knee and sent her flying.

“Pet, that was too easy.”

“You weren’t playing fair.”

“You gonna do something about it?”

They jumped to their feet at the same time, but Spike got to her first.

“Spike. Don’t. Forget. The. Chip,” Buffy reminded him as she gracefully avoided his punches and kicks.

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. I meant it.”

“I know, but I don’t care about me.”

“You should. Sweetheart, you should—oh, lookie, Slayer, I’ve got you now.” Fully aware that he was grinning like a mad man, he dug his fingers into her arms, pinning her against the wall of the training room. “I’ve missed this. Can’t tell you how much I’ve missed fighting you,” he said, lowering his voice to a soft murmur.

“I’m feeling nostalgic myself.” Her face was rosy and her chest heaved against his. Spike was about to ask if she needed a break when she smacked her forehead against his. “I’ve missed kicking your ass,” she giggled, apparently finding it hilarious once he crumpled to floor after being head butted.

“Oh, now you’re in for it.”

“No way!” she squealed, running in the opposite direction. “You should just give up. How many times have I knocked you on your butt so far?”

“Listen to you gloat. Gloating on you, baby…” Before Buffy could do anything about it, Spike had her body slammed to the floor. “It’s fucking sexy.”

“Aw, thanks,” she panted. “You’re sweet.”

“Are you alright?”

“Totally. Slayers. I think we have a higher threshold for pain. I just need to catch my breath. It’s difficult to run and duck and jump, all at Slayer-speed, while I’m laughing. How are you?”

“Never felt better,” he responded, rolling onto his back.

“What about your forehead? Gimme.”

“What?”

“Let me see your forehead.” Lifting from the waist up, she leaned over to gingerly touch the red welt she’d left a few inches from his left temple. “We must have matching goose eggs. I’m sorry about that. Doesn’t it hurt? Out of everything so far, my head aches, and I pretty much did that to myself.”

“Slayer, I was afraid this would happen.”

“The matching bumps on our heads? Are you sure you’re okay?” Concerned, she reached for his forehead again but Spike caught her hand and pushed her fingers against his lips. “We should find some ice--.”

“Simmer, Nurse Buffy,” he laughed, kissing her knuckles. “We’ve done little to no actual sparring. That’s what I was dreading. We don’t level out so much anymore. We used to be a perfect match. Now, me sparring with you is about as helpful as Giles in his fucking puffy suit. It’s embarrassing.”

“I don’t agree. I worked a bunch on my dodging skills. And if we worked on our technique, and actually thought it through, I’m sure we could have something really productive here. So maybe we can’t pummel each other like we used to--.”

“Because of the bloody chip. The chip mucks--.”

“Chipmunks?”

“Ha,” he said, reaching to tug on one of her braids. “Cute, pet. I was trying to say that the sodding chip in my sodding head is mucking everything up. It’s stopping us from fighting properly.”

“Oh. And here I thought it was our new boyfriend-girlfriend status that was keeping our fight fun and not-so-proper. Silly me. My bad.”

Lifting up on bent elbows, Spike looked at her for a moment and then he said, “There was that too.”

“There was that too? Alright. Okay…”

“Don’t go there. Don’t read between the lines, Buffy. Don’t even think about it.”

“I don’t have to. I’m reading the actual lines as we speak, and they are your priorities, Spike. There’s sex at number one, and fighting at number two, followed closely by--.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re on the right track, but still wrong. Let’s get it correct, shall we? It’s sex with you, and fighting with you, and whatever else you were about to add for number three, you’d better tack on a ‘with you’ to the end of it too.”

Buffy blinked. She said nothing.

“Have I made you speechless?” Spike asked with an amused chuckle. She just blinked again as he rested his head in the cradle of her warm thighs. Grabbing her braids again, he brought her head down to kissing distance. “You really are cute. Slayer, you’re in a downright lovely mood this morning.”

“Thanks. I got a decent amount of sleep last night. More than I’ve had in a while.”

“Wish I could say the same. After you cast me aside, I had no choice but to turn to the television for comfort.”

“What? Spike, what the hell are you talking about?” She giggled again and it was music to Spike’s ears. “I didn’t cast you anywhere. I put you on hold—no, I put us on hold. I postponed us. You’re such a dork. You turned to the TV for comfort? Well, I hope watching shitty late-night TV brought you loads of comfort.”

“Baby, was that pun intentional? ‘Cause I’ll have you know, I took care of my load in your mother’s pretty guestroom before I headed out to the telly. Had to. You left me with no choice. I was aching. You had me high and dry.”

“What…what?” Her eyes grew wide. “You…? Oh, don’t say anything!” She covered up his mouth with her palms. “God, why didn’t you just go to sleep? Couldn’t you have just slept it off?”

“Is that what you did?” he asked quietly, removing her hands from his lips.

“Yes, I went to sleep,” she replied as her face burned. “I-I went directly to sleep.”

“Did you think of me?”

“While I was sleeping?”

“Before that.”

“Yes, I did, but I didn’t…do…that.” Her nose wrinkled then her entire face scrunched up as he smiled up at her. “You’re such a pain.”

“Oh, but you love me regardless.”

She froze, and Spike knew he’d stuck his foot in his mouth.

“Hey now, there’s no need to get your feathers ruffled. I was only joking. I…damn it, pet, they’re just bloody words. Don’t take ‘em to heart.”

“You and your just words…” she began with an unreadable expression on her face. “Spike, you’ve picked on me about Angel, you’ve made dumb comments about my clothes and my hair, you made that crack about us no longer being a perfect match…”

His brow rose. He didn’t expect to hear that in her list of grievances.

“…You proved further that you’ve got an unhealthy obsession with making me blush.”

“Buffy--.”

“I’m on to you,” she said softly. Instead of moving away, she dug one hand in his hair while the other simply held the side of his face. “I know what you’ve been up to, and I appreciate it. You’ve kept me preoccupied. Blissfully preoccupied. You’ve distracted me, but you’ve kept me on task. You’ve kept my thoughts off my screwy nerves by being a complete bonehead.” With a laugh, she brushed a kiss on his lips. “An incredibly sweet bonehead.”

“You were about to burst at the seams. You were fighting it off, but I had to intervene--.” He couldn’t finish his sentence or even his train of thought because she was kissing him again. Her lips were so warm and inviting, he cringed as he pulled away.

“Hey--.”

“Don’t you dare sulk.” Desperate to avoid her confused expression and slight pout, Spike lifted his head out of her lap. He stood and offered to help Buffy off the floor, but she refused to take his hand. “Come on, the bloody Watcher brigade could be here any minute--.”

“Do you hear them?”

“No, but--.”

“Until you hear them enter the building, I don’t care about them. I meant what I said. I like being preoccupied by my new boyfriend. So get back down here and preoccupy me.”

“You really want to risk us shagging on the floor of your Watcher’s place of business?”

“Giles… Giles doesn’t work back here.”

“Is that right? Sweetheart, I’d choose your words more carefully or a bloke could misunderstand, and you could end up with those silly short pants down around your ankles in seconds flat.”

She swallowed, but kept herself mostly composed. “I won’t hit you again. Stop trying to rile me up. Our sparring is over and done with.”

“Yeah, and a lot of help it was…”

“Oh, don’t get all mopey about your chip again. I don’t care if we can’t fight like we used to. I want to fight with you, but not like that. I want you with me on the field where you’re unstoppable. And I like this kind of sparring.”

“You mean the kind where we mainly just run about, play keep-away and snog on the mat?”

“Yeah. It’s fun.”

“Fun?”

“And hot.”

“Hotter than yoga with Angel?”

“What do you think?” His girl might’ve appeared innocent in her frizzy pigtails, with her legs stretched out in front of her as she knocked her sneakers together, but the way she was looking at him through her lashes? It took all his will power not to scoop her into his arms and carry her off right then.

“Maybe you should spell it out to me?” he suggested.

“Angel and I had sexual tension. We had tons of it, but we couldn’t act on it. He hardly kissed me after I broke his curse. It didn’t stop me from wanting him, but being around him—it felt as if I were given a string of amazing promises that could never ever be fulfilled. It made wanting him about as enjoyable as getting my teeth kicked in.”

“So… You’re saying it’s more fun to want me?” He offered her his hand again. This time she took it and walked into his arms, pressing her body flush against his. She pillowed her head on his chest as she returned his embrace. “You’d pick desiring me over wanting Angel and his abnormally large forehead?”

When she said nothing, he brushed her nose with the end of one of her braids. “You know, I never would’ve pegged you as a touchy-feely type, but you’ve been clinging to me all morning.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No. Not at all,” he said, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I don’t see why you care about Angel so much. I’m with you, and I can’t be with him. He has a curse while we have no real restrictions other than our bad timing. He and I were plagued with drama, and the only obstacle for us is my friends hating you.”

“So you’re saying I win by default?”

“I know you thrive on one-upping Angel, but there’s no competition here.”

“But you love him. If he’s still in your heart, how am I supposed to weasel my way in there? Especially if that sod’s taking up all the room?”

He felt her take a deep breath. At least she was hesitating before she crushed him. He assumed she was trying to think up the best way to break it to him: she’d never love him, or maybe if she could muster up some affection for his sorry ass, she’d never love him as much as her precious Angel. Caught up in his thoughts, Spike almost didn’t notice the faint jingle of the front door as it was pushed open.

“Saved by the bell, Slayer. We’ve got company.”

“How many are there?”

“One. It’s just Giles.”

He expected her to dash out of his arms then, but she didn’t. “I love Angel,” she confessed. “I always will, but not like I used to. Spike, when the time comes--.” She cut herself off, grabbed him and kissed him hard. “It’s really early in the game, you know? My feelings are intense and unruly. I can’t—I won’t say anything until I’m sure, and I’m nowhere near sure--.”

“Buffy, hush,” he said just as Giles called out her name.

“I can’t,” she whispered back. “There’s room in my…in my heart, okay? Until the time is right, I’ll…I’ll save you a seat? God, I know how corny that sounds, but you started it with your corny metaphor.”

It was his turn to swallow her up with kisses. How could he not? “You’re bloody perfect, have I told that today? At times you seem so fucking innocent, but you know exactly how to bring a man down to his knees.”

“I…” She closed her eyes as Spike kissed her neck. Her Watcher called out for her again, and she said, “Giles, I’m back here. Hold on a minute.”

“Buffy, I thought you might be early so I brought, eh, donuts and coffee. I was hoping we could speak about yesterday and clear the air about Spike. I know this is a delicate situation and that I didn’t handle it well, but—Spike…you’re…here.” With a brown bag in one hand and a drink tray in the other, Giles just blinked as he stood in the doorway.

“Good morning to you too, Watcher,” Spike said, looking at Buffy’s surrogate father squarely in the eye as he gave her one last drawn out kiss before they broke apart.

“Um…” Buffy licked her lips and gave the hem of her tank top a few self-conscious tugs. “Spike helped me warm-up for my test,” she announced, she tried to sound chipper, but still came off as a kid caught elbow-deep in a cookie jar.

“I see…”

“We sparred.”

“Oh?” Giles’ brow rose. “How did that—that worked out for you? Regardless of his chip?”

“We worked around it,” Buffy replied with an ‘it was no big deal’ shrug. “Now I’m worked up. I’m pumped and ready to kick some vampire ass. Giles, do you think my test will consist of just vampire ass kicking?”

“It’ll probably be something along those lines. Will Spike—Spike, will you be staying for the review?”

Although he addressed him by name, Giles wouldn’t look at him directly. Running his tongue across his teeth, hoping to come across as smug as possible, Spike stood behind Buffy and wrapped his arms around her. He folded his hands together, resting them casually against Buffy’s flat stomach. “Didn’t think I had the option to stay,” he said smoothly as he placed a kiss on his Slayer’s temple.

And Giles’ eye started to twitch on cue. “Actually the Council expressed some interest in you. There’s a woman in particular that seemed very…eager to question William the Bloody.”

“Why is that? Who’s this woman?” Buffy asked. “Giles, did you tell them about his chip? Did you tell them how he’s helped me out in the past?”

“Yes, yes--.”

“Did you tell them that he’s off limits?” she continued with a noticeable edge to her voice.

“Pet, I can handle those pompous goons. Don’t you worry about me.” He leaned in to kiss her again, but was stopped short by an elbow jabbed into his side.

“Quit it,” she hissed, squirming out of his hold. “And I will worry. These people try to kill me every time I turn around, and I used to work for them. You’re a vampire and you’re—you’re going home.”

“What?” Spike asked with a laugh. “Slayer--.”

“You heard me. Get out of here. I won’t risk them hurting you.”

“Now, love…” Spike lowered his voice a tad, not appreciating the way Giles was staring at his Slayer as if she’d lost her mind. “Did they say what they wanted with me? Hey, earth to Watcher.” He snapped his fingers in front of Giles’ face when he continued to look stunned. “Did they say what they wanted with me?”

“You’re on the list of people they’d like to interview. The interviews will continue this afternoon.”

“Well that settles it. I’ve got to stay. I have plans this afternoon. The Slayer and I both do. In fact, Rupert, you should spread the word: she’ll be booked right up from the end of this test to at least tomorrow morning. Hell, let’s make it the entire weekend. She won’t be accepting calls or making appearances. I won’t be on hand for babysitting. Dawn and her mum’ll have to toddle between you Scoobies for a change.”

“Buffy, surely you can’t be serious. To make yourself completely unavailable at a time like this…”

“Well, I won’t be completely unavailable. I won’t even be halfway unavailable.” She tucked her braids behind her ears as a soft blush warmed her features. “I will take calls. And if there’s an emergency, you can find us at…well, at Spike’s crypt.”

“But choose your emergencies carefully, Watcher, and knock before you enter.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a biggie. Knocking is of the super important. I can’t stress that enough.”

“Don’t worry, we can chain up the doors if that’ll make you feel better,” Spike mumbled for Buffy’s ears alone. He kissed her temple again and this time, she leaned into him and smiled prettily with her eyes downcast.

“Spike, you’re embarrassing me,” she whispered.

“Just ignore ol’ Rupes, he’s over there pretending like he’s blind anyway. Look at him, staring off into the corners of the room. Brings me back to our engagement once upon a time.”

“Yes, yes, speaking of that,” Giles began with a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Have you spoken to Willow? Have you asked her if she might’ve accidentally cast another spell similar to that one? For you both to be so friendly so…so very quickly… Buffy, are you sure Spike hasn’t--.”

“He hasn’t,” Buffy insisted with so much conviction it made Spike kiss her again. “There have been no spells. Everything between us has happened the old-fashioned way. The normal way.”

“I won her over.”

“He practically knocked me over,” Buffy corrected with a laugh. Then she quickly sobered. “Giles, I know you don’t trust him, or like him, but I do. And if trusting him, and liking him blows up in my face…”

“That won’t happen,” Spike muttered in her ear. “Not if I can help it. I love you. I will not muck this up. Being with you, just these few days, it’s like living a bloody dream.”

Buffy took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Giles, Spike is my boyfriend. We can have that talk you mentioned earlier, but whatever is said, no matter what, everything will boil down to that fact. He’s my boyfriend. I like him. I care about him, I trust him, and I want him. I want us to work and I won’t let you or anyone stand in the way of that.”

“Now that was quite a declaration.” From behind Giles, Quentin Travers slowly clapped his hands. “Who knew William the Bloody could bring forth such fervor from our young Slayer? Perhaps a physical exam and our remaining interviews won’t be necessary. Taking your tardiness into account, and now this, Miss Summers, I’m profoundly disappointed in you.”

“Her private life is not on trial here,” Giles said, glaring at the other man just as strongly as Buffy and Spike were.

“Isn’t it? She takes civilians on patrols with her. You allow these friends of hers, these children, to assist in your research because you’re incapable of doing so on your own. Now she’s involved with another vampire? The vampire she’s failed to extinguish although he’s lived in this town for years? I guess the saying, ‘if you can’t beat them, join them,’ applies all too well here. It’s laughable.”

“So, you don’t like my boyfriend, and I was tardy, is that really enough to deny me information about Glory?”

“Buffy, I think your Watcher hasn’t reminded you lately of the resolute status of the players in our game here. The Council fights evil. The Slayer is the instrument by which we fight. The Council remains, the Slayers change. It’s been that way from the beginning.”

“Well, that’s a very comforting, bloodless way of looking at it, isn’t it?” Giles mumbled, looking at Quentin scornfully.

“Now, Giles, don’t interrupt because I believe she’s understanding me.” He stepped past Giles and Spike as if they were no longer in the room. “Glory is stronger than you, Miss Summers. She’s a more powerful instrument, if you will. We can help you. We have information that will help you. I can tell you exactly what she is. I can tell you where she came from and what she wants. Resist our recommendations--.”

“What recommendations? Have you made recommendations? I just recall a bunch of putdowns and haughtiness.”

“Buffy, you are dealing with grown ups now--.”

“Just answer the question please,” Buffy said, hands on her hips. “What do you expect me to do for your precious information? You want me to jump through hoops, right? Give me the details.”

“You will no longer include civilians in Slayer-matters. And the vampire boyfriend, well, of course he has to go.”

“Of course. And what if I told you I know that Glory’s a god, I know she’s from a Hell dimension, and I know she wants the Key ‘cause it’ll help her get home? Mr. Travers, I know all of this because of my vampire boyfriend. He’s actually pretty handy to have around. He’s supposed to be the evil one, but he hasn’t held information hostage from me. You think I’m a disappointment because I have people who care about me? I watch over Glory’s Key twenty-four-seven. If you’d like to find a new instrument to use against Glory, be my guest, but—Mr. Travers, do you even know where her Key is?”

When he didn’t respond, Buffy rolled her eyes. “Some all-knowing brain you turned out to be. Unless you can tell me exactly how to kill Glory, I’m not playing your game. Maybe you can find another Slayer, but she won’t be as good as me. And what’s the Council without a decent Slayer? Just a bunch of uptight socially inept men in itchy tweed suits who need a girl to fight their battles. How pathetic is that? No offense, Giles.”

“None taken.”

“You can’t throw your weight around in my town when you know squat,” Buffy continued, her confidence swelling with every passing minute. “I have the Key. I have the strength, and my friends, Giles, and my boyfriend make me ten times more powerful. If you’d like to ride our coattails, I have some recommendations you must follow.”

“Such as?”

“We work together, and not in the you-hovering-and-bossing-everyone-around sense. I fight, you watch. You have no say over how I get the job done. The civilians stay and so does the boyfriend. Giles will not be deported. When Giles calls, you help. You hire him back. You pay him, and I think it’s about time you started paying all your instruments. I’m not in high school anymore. I am a grown up. I have responsibilities and my mom needs help. You tell me what I need to know and I’ll kill Glory for you, or I’ll die trying. If the Council’s goal is truly fighting evil, then I’d say that’s an offer you can’t refuse.”

“Alright. I accept your terms.”

“You do?” Buffy asked, letting a glimmer of surprise show. Then she swallowed it up and appeared stone-faced. “Good. Now tell me what you know.”

“To fight a god, you must use a weapon made for a god.”

“Okay…”

“We’re in the process of consulting with the Powers that Be for the location of such a weapon. The oracles can be…fickle at times.”

“You’ve pissed them off too?”

“Once we have their cooperation, Miss Summers, you will know the whereabouts of a weapon that can hurt Glory.”

“But not kill her?”

“We do not know how to kill her yet. We know two powerful Hell gods overthrew her, but even they couldn’t kill her. She is contained in our earthly dimension as a punishment, but we’re not sure to what extent. We believe something is holding her back.”

“Other than being crazy obsessive over the Key, she didn’t seem to be held back by anything when I saw her last.”

“You must remember she isn’t in her true form. You’ve only seen a fraction of what she is capable of.”

“Great. How long will it take before you have the Powers’ cooperation?”

“A few weeks. We’re making remarkable progress.”

“Are you kidding?” Buffy laughed. “Mr. Travers, you’re really letting me down. You really don’t know much of anything. I can get us a direct line to the oracles.”

“How?” Quentin looked from Buffy to Giles.

“It’s Angel,” Giles replied with a shrug. “He communicates with them. Regularly, I believe.”

“It’s another perk of a vampire boyfriend. They’ve been around forever and they’re great at networking.”

“Could he act as our liaison?”

“Sure?”

“Angel is in Los Angeles, is he not? That’s not too far away from here. We should leave for Los Angeles immediately.”

“Hang on, there’s no reason to do that,” Spike blurted out. “He doesn’t need us holding his hand while he converses with the bloody oracles. Buffy can call him then he can call her back. Wherever the weapon is, we’ll go after it after we receive his call.”

“I don’t believe it’s your decision,” Quentin remarked. “If Buffy and Giles are my paid employees now, I do have some say over the information they disclose, especially when it’s disclosed to a notoriously unstable vampire. What if he became Angelus again after learning about Glory?”

“He already knows bits and pieces,” Buffy answered. “Just let me call him. Giles, we’re going to use your phone.” At the ‘we,’ Buffy tugged on Spike’s shirtsleeve.

“Miss Summers, I’d like to be a part of your call,” Quentin called out, following behind them as they headed to Giles’ office.

“Isn’t this hovering? Love, he’s breaking one of your rules and you established them only a breath ago.”

“Yeah, but if he’s willing to pay…” Bringing Spike aside, she continued to whisper, “Mom’s bills are stacking up and she hasn’t had the biopsy yet. If I can help her… I won’t let him push me around, but won’t push him so much that it makes my first paying job end before it starts.”

“Pet…”

“Just bear with me, and please bear with them. Okay?” Not giving Spike a chance to speak, she kissed him. “I’m not giving up on our weekend just yet. Know that. And if we have to take a drive up to LA, at least you’ll have the chance to one-up him in person.”

“You’ll tell him about us?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” was all she said before she turned her attention back to the Watchers and picked up Giles’ telephone. “Hey, Angel? Hi, it’s me…”
***





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