Chapter Thirty-Two
Home Truths
Buffy dug in her purse and pulled out the remote controller and pressed the button as the car approached the gates to her home. The car swept through them, and the swarm of reporters stuck their cameras to the windows, clicking frantically whilst trying not to end up beneath the car’s wheels. Thankfully, the windows were darkened and they would be lucky to get even a silhouette.
“Do they ever take a bleeding lunchbreak?” snarled Rich when he saw all the press.
Rich, Tara and Buffy got out as quickly as they could and walked briskly to the door as the car drove away. Buffy opened the door and frowned as the alarm didn’t buzz, indicating that it wasn’t currently on.
“Spike!” yelled Buffy, dropping her purse on the table in the hall.
She ran in to the lounge room, fully expecting to see him there. She let out a shriek that had Rich and Tara race in after her. All three stood and stared at the scene before them. One of the sofas was upturned and had what looked like spots of blood on it. A window was open and swaying in the breeze, the glass in it was broken.
“Oh, God, Spike!” Buffy’s feet finally consented to move further in to the room and she walked behind the upside down sofa. She held her breath, terrified that she would find Spike’s body there.
Rich felt sick as Buffy walked to the sofa. He couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t lose another friend. He still missed James and had gotten so close to Spike since he had died. He sagged against Tara’s shoulder when he could tell from Buffy’s face that Spike wasn’t there.
“There’s blood all over the carpet,” said Buffy weakly.
Rich’s knees gave way and despite Tara’s efforts, he sank to the floor, sobbing.
“Rich, baby, shh, it’s probably not as bad as it looks,” soothed Tara, hugging him to her chest as she knelt beside him.
Rich clung to her like a small child would. “I…I didn’t keep him s…safe.”
“Hey, you have done all you could. This is not your fault,” said Tara, she glanced up at Buffy. Rich was always so together, so in control, she didn’t quite know what to say.
“I sh…should h…have known t…that he’d r…run. Sh—”
“That’s enough, Rich,” said Buffy sharply. “None of this is your fault. Okay, so we should have anticipated that he’d run, but ultimately he is a grown man and has to take responsibility for his actions.”
Rich was so shocked by Buffy’s tone that he stopped crying and looked up at her in astonishment, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and sniffing.
“But—”
“No, Rich. I’m not having you or anyone else thinking that they are to blame. God knows, all the way here I’ve blamed myself. But he is the one who ran, who ended up having those freaking photos taken in that back street. He must have been wasted by then. He’s run away to the bottom of a bottle and not just to get away from us.” Buffy was furious.
Tara and Rich got up from the floor.
“Buffy, are you okay?” asked Tara timidly.
“What?” Buffy took a deep breath. “Sorry, Tara. No I’m not. I’m worried half to death but also so angry with him. What the hell has happened here? Where do we look next? Is he all right or has the change taken over him completely?” Her face crumpled and she began to cry.
Both Rich and Tara put their arms around her and they hugged each other tightly. Tears were streaming down Rich’s face once more. Tara was the only one still dry eyed, and the reason for this was that she was thinking hard. She was pretty sure that she knew a spell that would lead them to Spike, if the blood was his. If it wasn’t, then it would still lead them to someone who probably had some answers to their questions.
Rich quit the group hug first and looked a little embarrassed at breaking down. The girls pretended that they hadn’t noticed that he had, and he pulled his shreds of English dignity together gratefully. They went out of the lounge and in to the kitchen.
“So what do we do now?” asked Buffy.
“Um, I think that I have something that we can do,” replied Tara. “It just depends on what herbs you have in stock.”
“Herbs?” Rich snorted, recovering his sense of humour. “This is Buffy and Spike we’re talking about. They don’t use ingredients – just TV dinners.”
“Hey!” protested Buffy. “I’ve got herbs. I’m all over having herbs!”
“Can you show me, please?” said Tara with a smile.
Buffy led her to a cupboard in the kitchen where a large number of dried herbs and spices in small glass jars where stored. “The cook keeps a good stock for when she’s here,” she explained.
Tara searched through them and smiled broadly when she found the ones that she needed. There was also a marble pestle and mortar in the cupboard and she took it out and placed it on the counter, it would be ideal for mixing the ingredients.
As she put the supplies on the counter next to the pestle and mortar, she became aware of Rich watching her very intently. She dipped her head and silently cursed. This would be where he ended the relationship. She’d never been with a man who had been able to deal with her casting spells – oh, the quirky stuff she sold on the Internet was okay but to actually do things… She shook her head. It was no good, Spike needed her help, and if Rich dumped her afterwards well…it just wasn’t meant to be after all.
“Wait here,” she said firmly.
She needed to collect some of the blood and didn’t want the others to get upset at the sight of it again. She asked Buffy for a spoon and thus armed she went back to the lounge. She knelt beside the blood stain on the carpet and closed her eyes, silently seeking help from the Goddess in the casting of the spell. She scraped the spoon against the stain and several flakes of dried blood were scooped up. She nodded. That would be ample.
Buffy and Rich both stared wide-eyed at her as she returned to the kitchen. She dropped the blood into the mortar and mixed it with the other ingredients with the pestle.
“Like a cauldron?” said Rich nervously, regretting his words as he got a sharp look from both Tara and Buffy.
“Essentially, yes,” replied Tara coolly. “I need a map of Sunnydale. Have you got one?”
“I think we have a street map somewhere,” replied Buffy. “But why just Sunnydale? How do you know that he will be here?”
“I just got a very powerful sense of closeness when I collected the…er…blood,” said Tara. “We’ll go nationwide if this doesn’t work.”
“Oh,” said Buffy quietly, and ran to the study to get the map.
Tara risked a glance at Rich. He was staring at her but looked away as she met his eye. “I’m so dumped.” She refocused her energy, pushing away the pain at the thought of not being with Rich. She took the map from Buffy and spread it out on the counter.
“Now, I need you both to stay silent. If you don’t think you can be, can you please leave?”
“We’ll be quiet,” said Rich, taking Buffy’s hand in his. Buffy looked at him curiously - his hand was shaking.
Tara added a few drops of water to act as the catalyst and chanted the spell. There was a puff of smoke and a flurry of yellow sparks rose from the mortar and swirled over the street map. They slowly settled on the surface and one by one were extinguished; all apart from one which continued to glow brightly.
The three of them leaned over the map to see where the spark was indicating. It was out of town, right on the edge of the map.
“It’s the old Crawford mansion,” said Buffy. “It’s not much more than a ruin.”
“Well, that is where he is, or rather where the person whose blood it is will be,” said Tara. “Shall we go then?” she added as Buffy and Rich stood still staring at the spark. As she glanced back at it, it went out.
“What does that mean?” gasped Buffy. “Is he dead?”
Tara smiled kindly. “No, it just means that the spell is over. We know where to go and its job is done.”
“Oh, thank God,” said Buffy with a nervous laugh. “Let’s go then shall we?” She picked up the keys to the SUV and walked towards the garage.
Tara went to follow but stopped when Rich spoke her name.
“Tara,” he said seriously.
His face was grave when she turned to look at him. “Look, when this is over…um…”
Tara drew herself up. “I know, it’s not working out…let’s split up,” she said a little bitterly.
“What?” Rich was horrified. “Yer don’t think that it’s working out? Yer want to split up?” His voice wavered.
Tara stared at him. “No, I don’t want to split up but I thought that y—”
“Tara, will you marry me?” blurted Rich.
“Wh…what?”
Rich went to her and took her hand in his. “Um…I had this all planned to do it properly. Soft lights, romantic music, amazing food – not cooked by me – me on bended knee.” He dropped to his left knee. “I can still do that part, I reckon. I know it’s not appropriate and I don’t expect yer to give me your answer now, but when yer were doing that spell, you looked so bleeding beautiful and I can’t believe that you’d like a stupid English sod like me and –”
Tara cut off Rich’s babbling by leaning down and kissing him soundly on the mouth. He was breathless when they parted. She stared at him. God, he felt that she could see his very soul when she looked at him like that. She let her lips brush his ear.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Really?” yelled Rich, leaping up and crushing her to his chest and swinging her around so that her feet were off the floor. “Oh, God, Tee. I love you so much!”
“Are you guys coming?” shouted Buffy from the garage.
“Um, yeah! We’re coming,” called Rich.
He put Tara back on her feet, grasped her hand tightly and they ran to the garage together.
“No way, Buffy,” said Rich when he saw Buffy behind the wheel. “I’ve not got a death wish. I’ll drive. Move over.”
Buffy grinned at him. “Okay, I’ll let you this time.”
She climbed over to the passenger seat and Tara got in the back. Rich caught Tara’s eye in the mirror and winked. He felt his heart would burst when she blew him a kiss.
“So when’s the wedding?” asked Buffy, laughing at their startled looks. “Aw, come on! Did you really think that I couldn’t hear this idiot babbling on?”
Rich looked at Buffy seriously. “I didn’t mean to ask today. Not really appropriate with what else is going on.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s great! I’m delighted for you both. Now let’s go and find that stupid man of mine.”
“Gotcha,” said Rich, throwing the vehicle in to drive and speeding out of the garage and down the driveway.
0000000000
Spike groaned and shifted position. God, his head hurt. He brought his left hand up to his forehead. He heard a noise but was too bleary to know what it was. It wasn’t until he brought his right hand up too that it registered. It sounded like – his eyes flew open – like the rattle of chains! He sat up abruptly, making his head swim a little.
“What the hell…?”
He groaned again as he remembered Angel coming in to the house. How had his old high school nemesis come to be a bleeding vampire? Had that crazy bitch, Drusilla, bitten him first? Tara said that there were no vampires in this dimension, but she’d been wrong. He stared at the chains on his wrists; they went through a ring on the wall. He gave a half-hearted tug at them but knew that they wouldn’t give. Angel wouldn’t have used them if they would. He closed his eyes as he remembered what had happened after Angel had offered to kill him or talk to him…
Spike just stared at Angel for a moment and then took a swift step towards him and punched him with all his might with his left hand. He hadn’t been able to believe his eyes as Angel flew backwards across the room as if he were in a TV show and on a wire. He looked at his fist and shook it – it didn’t even hurt. He glanced up in time to see Angel’s fist heading his way, he ducked but couldn’t get out of the way of the blow completely. It took him on his shoulder and sent him reeling backwards on to the sofa, the force tipping it up. He crawled out from under it and felt Angel grab the neck of his t-shirt. He struggled and was pleased when the cheaply made shirt tore, and Angel lost his grip.
“Just listen to me for a minute, you moron!” yelled Angel as Spike wriggled free.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” retorted Spike. “I don’t know how the hell you’re a vampire. They’re not supposed to exist in this dimension. When did it happen? You were out in the light in school. Shit, were you turned when you were in prison?”
Spike threw a punch that Angel easily dodged. “I was never in high school with you, for Christ’s sake! Can’t you work it out?” shouted Angel. “What the hell Buffy sees in you, I’ll never know!”
“Don’t you even say her name, you bastard,” said Spike, eyes blazing.
Angel grinned at him, an unnerving sight with a mouthful of fangs. “She’s mine. Has been for years.” He deliberately goaded Spike.
“No!” howled Spike, lashing out with a foot and kicking Angel in to the air.
Angel grunted when he landed some eight feet away. “Think about it Spike. You’ve obviously learned a little about dimensions,” he said as he got to his feet. “Has it even crossed your stupid, tiny brain, that I might not be of this dimension? That I might have gotten sucked in to this bizarre world when Drusilla died?” He knew his childe must be dead. The connection was gone.
Spike stood still, panting hard. “Fuck! You’re the sodding vampire that the coven told us about!” Spike flew at him, fists flying, irrationally angry at finally meeting the vampire that he’d come to America to find.
“Oh, for God’s sake! You really are just like him aren’t you?” said Angel as Spike ran at him. “You never think things through – just freaking overreact.”
Angel met Spike’s attack with a well placed punch and the vampire-to-be dropped like a stone.
“Always was the best way to shut you up,” said Angel with a grin as he let his features fade back to human and picked Spike’s limp body up and over his shoulder.
He had a feeling that to get this little hot-head to listen to him properly that he might have to be restrained somehow. Unless this Spike and Buffy were kinky and had hand-cuffs in the bedroom – he shuddered at the thought – then the best place to take him was back to the old mansion. He knew that there were still chains there that should do the job. He glanced at the lightening sky; there was enough time to get there before dawn.
“Time to get some answers, Spikey-boy. Need to find out a few home truths.”
Tbc…
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Banner by dawnofmeAuthor's Chapter Notes:
Betad by Carol (fresh back from DragonCon) and dawnofme
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