Spike longingly watched Buffy slip out the back door then turned and looked at everyone sitting in the living room. Bugger it all. Why do I feel like bleedin’ Christ on his way to face the Pharisees?
Oh that’s right…because I’m about to be crucified! And the first Pharisee will be…
“What have you done to her?” Giles asked bitingly. The four others shifted their eyes from the Watcher to Spike.
Spike grimaced at the thinly veiled threat, knowing if he didn’t give the proper answer he was likely to end up with a chest full of coat rack, or whatever else was handy despite what Anya said earlier. “To be honest, I don’t know how much has changed, other than the hearing and the vision. I believe her strength has increased, but only marginally. She only took a few drops.”
“And exactly how did that happen? I can’t imagine Buffy doing so of her own free will. You must have used a thrall to induce her to accept the blood.” Giles unbelieving stance regarding Buffy taking Spike’s blood willingly was starting to grate on said vampire’s nerves.
Lips thinned and nostrils flaring, Spike explained impatiently. “I didn’t make her do anything! I’d no clue she’d even done anything until I was half way back to the crypt.”
Giles snorted in disbelief, but Anya agreed, “It’s very possible. William the Bloody wasn’t known for his thrall.”
“That was Dru’s gig, not mine,” Spike added.
“Yes, I remember quite well,” Giles ground out, glaring at the blond vampire. “That doesn’t preclude your ability to do so.”
“You just don’t get it, do you, Watcher? If I’d wanted to place a thrall on the Slayer, don’t you think I’d have done it a long time ago?”
“He has a point…and my God, I didn’t just say that,” Xander said, recognizing the logic, but somewhat disgusted with himself.
“I’m proud of you, sweetie, that must have been painful for you to admit,” Anya replied, patting his leg.
“You have no idea.”
Spike tilted his head to the side and stared at the whelp. He knew if he openly thanked the boy for slightly agreeing with him he would deny it vehemently. So he settled for a barely perceptible nod to which Xander’s eyes widened and then suddenly glanced off in another direction.
“Could we please return to the topic at hand?”
Spike heaved a pained sigh, pulled a chair from the corner, and sat. He was tired of standing, knowing that Giles would continue with his questions all night if he had the chance. “I haven’t done any type of thrall. What more do you want to know?”
“How is it that she’s now part of a mating claim?”
“Hell if I know!” he growled at the Watcher. “From what I know, claims – any kind of claims – are permanent. Why would I do that to the Slayer?”
“To torture her, of course.” Giles saw that as the only explanation. Anything else was unthinkable.
“You mankey twat-”
“You’re extremely uninformed,” Anya interrupted and Tara was secretly glad. Things were becoming highly unstable.
“I beg your pardon?” Giles spluttered.
“You may beg, but I’ll doubt it will do any good. As I said before, once the claim begins, the pair is immune to outside forces. The one who initiates the claim is the one who has control over the other until the claim is finalized. So, if anything, Buffy has power over Spike, not vice versa…at least, not until they complete it.”
Although Spike loved Buffy beyond himself, it did make him cringe to learn that, in essence, he was her puppet. Even though he never read up on claims he’d heard about them from Darla. She’d scoffed because Angelus wanted to become her mate and she’d refused… profusely. And after he’d caught Dru with Angelus, he knew she would never reciprocate any type of claim, especially a mating one.
“That’s somewhat of a relief then. Now if we can just keep the claim from being completed, then at least we’ll be assured of Spike’s compliance.” Giles tried to find the one redeeming factor in what he saw as quite the debacle.
“But, won’t that keep Buffy in pain, as in the hellfire variety?” Xander asked the question on everyone but the Watcher’s mind.
“Apparently he doesn’t give a fuck,” Spike muttered, shooting daggers at Giles.
“Well, I give a fu- I mean, I care,” Willow piped in. She may not be a fan of Spike, but she didn’t want Buffy to suffer, not after what she just went through.
“Have to agree with Willow on this one. Buffy’s already been to hell and back… literally. Why would we knowingly put her through it again?” Xander asked hesitantly. He didn’t want to appear to be on the vampire’s side, but he was being backed into a corner that left no other alternative.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this, and from you, Xander,” Giles countered.
“I think everyone wants what’s best for Buffy, don’t they?” Tara asked the group. Seeing no one refute her assessment, she continued. “If Spike is best for Buffy, then shouldn’t we accept that?”
Spike grinned at the shy Wicca. “Best thing I’ve heard all night, pet.”
She ducked her head. “No, I think Buffy saying that she loved you was the best thing you’ve heard tonight.”
“That was a mistake-” Giles began to argue before being interrupted.
“No, I distinctly heard her say ‘I love him’,” Anya corrected him.
“Face it, Rupes, I’m in her blood. No way am I letting go of that,” Spike warned the Watcher.
Giles pursed his lips. “How can she continue slaying if she’s a vampire?”
“Uh, yeah… is Buffy on her way to becoming a member of the fangy undead?” Willow asked.
“Stupid humans,” Anya muttered under her breath.
Spike looked incredulously at the concerned group. “You fools actually think I’d do that to her, after all that she’s been through? You’re a bloody stupid lot!”
“Answer the question Spike,” Giles pressed through clenched teeth.
“Of course not, now sod off!” he roared and shoved the chair he was sitting on back against the wall, watching it splinter.
Paying no attention to the mangled piece of furniture, Spike began pacing furiously, glaring at each person in turn. “You bloody, self-righteous, meddling fools! Don’t know when to leave well enough alone! She was fucking happy where she was!”
Xander frowned in confusion. “She was happy in Hell?”
They still have no idea she was in Heaven. Time to enlighten them.
“Whelp… do you honestly think the chit was in Hell? She’s the Slayer for Christ’s sake! It’s like an express ticket to St. Peter himself!”
A collective gasp issued from the group. “Just what are you saying Spike?” Giles asked for clarification.
“My God, you’re thicker than Angel’s broody forehead. I’ll use simple terms then, Watcher.” Spike squat down in front of Giles and raised his eyebrows as if speaking to a child. “Buffy wasn’t in Hell… she was in Heaven.”
“No…” Willow murmured then trailed off.
“Oh Goddess!” Tara cried.
“Dear God!” Giles and Xander said in shocked unison.
“In retrospect, it makes sense,” Anya said with a nod, practical as ever.
“But wait… how do you know this?” Giles asked with a confused frown.
“She told me, you git!” He stood back up and moved away from the group, facing them. “I’ll love her to the end of my existence, but I wouldn’t want her back if she were in Heaven, even though it killed me every night to listen to Dawn cry herself to sleep. You try to do all these things to ‘help’ her, but all you do is bugger her life up more.”
“Hey!” Willow snapped.
“Red, I expected better from you. You ripped the poor girl from the bosom of Heaven and you wonder where her gratitude is? You’re lucky she even lets you live, let alone stay here!” Spike condemned the witch that had brought them all to this point.
“Why you…”
“Try it, Red… I want you to try something,” he said menacingly.
Tara’s hand on Willow’s thigh kept her from attempting anything.
Seeing Tara held her in check, Spike turned his gaze on her. “Glinda…you should’ve come to me, knowing they were cooking up this little ‘after life’ party. But I guess you knew I’d have nothing to do with it and that’s why you didn’t tell me.” His gaze softened when he saw the tears misting in her eyes. “Should’ve persuaded your girl against it.”
Tara nodded her head, mutely agreeing to all that Spike had pointed out. She was so stupid to think that anything of that magnitude wouldn’t have dire consequences. And now, they were all faced with the results of Willow’s dark magic.
Spike then shifted his attention to Anya and Xander. “Whelp, you knew it was wrong, I can smell it on you.”
Not denying anything, Xander tried ignorance as his scapegoat. “I didn’t actually think it would work. I mean, she didn’t even get to finish the ritual because of those Hogs from Hell or something.”
“But she had the Urn of Osiris, Xander. There was at least a seventy-five percent chance of the spell producing the desired effect,” Anya commented, blowing his excuse out of the water.
“You knew, Anya… knew what that mojo shit would do, and yet you still went along with it,” Spike accused, watching the guilt creep across her face. “You’re worse for not stopping them.”
“You didn’t think I tried? I remember saying, ‘Xander, this is a very bad idea! Willow can’t control the kind of forces she wants to call up.’ But no, no one ever listens to me, ex-demon with hundreds of years of experience! What do I know?”
“Ok, pet, I see your point.”
“I’ll have you know I could’ve told you something like this would happen…that because she didn’t have the portal mapped that Willow couldn’t be sure where she’d gone, and-”
“Breathe, Ahn,” Xander interrupted her, trying to soothe her agitated state.
Spike nodded once again to Xander, turning his head slowly to Buffy’s Watcher. “And you,” Spike sneered, holding up a hand to prevent Giles from saying anything.
“You were her world, her father and you just decided to sell the store and leave her family cause you couldn’t live with the bleedin’ pain of being here anymore? What was going to happen to Dawn? She sure as hell can’t go to that prick of a man that isn’t her real father!” Becoming extremely worked up, Spike paced the length of the room as he admonished Rupert for planning to leave the States. “And news flash, Rupes… we all lost Buffy that night, not just you.”
Spike fell to the floor at that point, physically drained, his emotions surfacing even though he tried to keep them at bay. “I watched her beautiful soul sacrificed for something you lot could hardly grasp. True and unconditional love! She gave it all up for Dawn, to save the world, to keep us all safe. And what do you arrogant bunch do? You violently rip her away from a place where she was loved, where she felt warm and finished…all for your stupid, selfish notions of remorse or self-pity ‘cause you lost someone.”
He was tearing up at this point, all his frustrations pouring out at the people that had caused Buffy so much grief. He sobbed into his hands as his body shook. “She was my salvation… my bright, golden light. Now, she’s barely half a person.”
The only dry eyes in the room at that point were Willow and Giles, not able to see beyond their mistakes to the pain that they’d caused the Slayer. Seeing Spike so completely lost in his despair, Tara slipped away from Willow and crouched down beside the mourning vamp.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she whispered, rubbing soothing circles on his trembling back.
Spike looked at her with swollen eyes. “If I could send her back, I would…even though it would destroy me,” he wept.
Tara’s eyes renewed their tears. “Oh sweetie.” Without further thought, she pulled him into a comforting embrace, crooning as she rocked him back and forth.
”I would be pissed off too if Xander pulled me from eternal comfort and security,” Anya offered, tears nearly choking her. “But you should know that magic like this has major repercussions. There will be penalties,” she advised in a low voice.
Spike looked up and nodded, watching the rest of the group, gauging if they truly understood her warning. Xander’s face was aflame with guilt and shame as silent tears made their way down his cheeks, closing his eyes as he grasped the scope of what they’d done. Giles and Willow, however, refused to glance at Spike, feeling if they did so they would be acknowledging the fact that he was right.
Spike slowly rose from his crouched position next to Tara, tense with anger. “Have you two got nothing to say?” He directed the question to the witch and the Watcher.
“I didn’t know where she was,” Willow said evenly, but Anya snorted in contempt.
“I asked if you did an astral map of the dimensions that night. You told me you did. Your easy deceptions will catch up with you soon.”
“Ahn…” Xander admonished. “If Willow said she-”
“You defend her?” Anya cut him off, hurt welling up inside her. “This is why she’s getting worse, not better… because everyone believes she’s just ‘poor geeky lesbian Willow.’ What you don’t seem to realize is that she’s a borderline Black Siren.”
“That’s not possible,” Giles refuted, glancing at the red haired witch. “It takes decades to even reach the lowest potential of a Black Siren.”
“Seems you don’t like seeing things that are clearly apparent to other people, Watcher,” Spike groused, not just referring to Willow’s advanced abilities.
Giles turned his eyes on the vampire, deep distrust smoldering behind them. “And you’re the paragon of observation, right Spike? How many times did Buffy tell you that she wanted no part of you in her life… and rather bluntly I might add?”
“I know some of the things I’ve done aren’t the best examples of clear thinking, but you know what? I pay daily for my sins. My hell is here and now, watching her go through life as if she’s in some hypnotic trance and can’t respond. You? You’ll just have to wait for your hell.”
Giles looked affronted. “Why you ungrateful-”
“Stop. Now.” He spoke with cold finality, which left Giles with his mouth hanging open. Spike then focused on the group as a whole. “Buffy needs me around right now, if for nothing else than to help her with this ‘transition’. I advise you all to let it be for now,” he warned.
With that, he silently walked into the kitchen, tired of Giles’ self-righteous attitude and no longer in the mood to deal with any of them, save Glinda or Demon girl. He paused at the back porch door, listening for Buffy. He could feel her anxiety over the noises she’d heard earlier, but he wasn’t about to apologize for them. She was speaking softly to someone, but he couldn’t discern to whom she was talking. Sensing no threat or danger, he moved back into the kitchen and started to prepare a cup of hot chocolate.
As the chocolate was beginning to boil, Xander crept in and sat at the kitchen counter, saying nothing. Spike eyed him cautiously, waiting for another outburst with a sarcastic quip or derogatory slurs, but was taken aback when the boy finally spoke.
“Can I have a cup?”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded mutely. He could tell the whelp was nervous, practically nauseous if truth be told about being in his presence, but he backed off from being a complete menace.
“I-I know… um, that you care for Buffy… we all do,” Xander started.
Unprepared for this, Spike waited for him to continue, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
“And I’m sorry for my part in all this… mess. It’s just… well… seeing her like that… well… it’s just, different.”
Spike began pouring the hot liquid into the mugs, plunking a handful of mini-marshmallows in the cup and scooting the beverage towards the young man. “I know you love her, Whelp. Know you can’t help it. Neither can I,” he whispered.
“She does kinda get under your skin, doesn’t she?”
“That she does. But Harris, your bird is amazing, too. She’s got all kinds of demony knowledge stored up. You Scoobies should take advantage of that, quit taking her for granted. She shouldn’t be a replacement for Buffy,” Spike pointed out quietly.
Xander blushed disconcertedly. “It’s not like that… I mean, not anymore. I used to… God she was… Buffy was my Wonder Woman! Now, it’s as if she’s Rogue and I’m Wolverine, ya know? They always looked out for each other… loved each other, but in a non-mixy kinda way. With Anya… well, she’s my Jean Grey,” he said with a final sigh.
Spike tried to hide his grin at the analogy but it slipped through anyway. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he and Xander Harris would be sitting at a kitchen counter discussing women and comic book heroes. To say that the situation was surreal would be an understatement.
Taking a chance, he leaned over and tapped Xander’s knuckles. “Too bad you don’t have those claws of his, mate. Be right handy in a fight, you know?”
“In my dreams, blondie,” Xander snarked, apparently comfortable with Spike’s presence. And, he had a sneaking suspicion that Spike might not be too bad to hang around with, since it was apparent he knew who the X-Men were. Not too bad at all.
“Oi! Call me anything you want – just leave off ‘blondie’.” Spike said with a shudder. “Have horrible déjà vu’s of Harm’s prattle.”
Xander snickered. “Guess even you have your limits, huh?”
“You have no bloody idea, mate.”
“Actually, yeah, I do. I went to school with the vacuous ding dong, and THAT was too much.”
“Hmm… forgot about that. And for the record, I would have shagged Jean Grey myself… poor Logan didn’t stand a chance against her charms.” Spike waggled his eyebrows.
Xander laughed and nodded in agreement. “Speaking of dreams, you know I had a dream about you once… or was it a nightmare? Nightmare, yeah, definitely,” he volunteered as he sipped at his cocoa.
“Bloody hell, Whelp! If I’m naked in this dream-”
“That would be a big HELL NO, with a side order of gagging noises!” Xander responded rather loudly. So loud, in fact, that it caused the conversational lull in the living room to cease, the young man’s guilty grimace apology enough.
They both listened for a few moments for the discussion to continue before Spike’s curiosity got the better of him. “So no naked Spike…”
“No, but tweed was involved.”
Hot chocolate nearly came through Spike’s nose. “Fucking Hell! Tweed?”
Ignoring him for the moment, Xander started describing the dream he’d had a couple years ago that involved the Scoobies, Spike and… cheese. “It was the strangest dream, really. I was at a playground…Buffy was in a sandbox making sand… thingies. And Giles was swinging on the swing set…”
Spike’s incredulous look told Xander enough. “Yeah, I know… but I swear I didn’t drink the Kool-Aid before I fell asleep!” Spike just cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Anyway, Giles was wearing his usual tweed and there next to him, swinging… was you! Dressed in the same damn thing. One man in tweed is scary… two… well, you realize my mind is scarred at this point.”
Spike’s mouth hung open at the picture Xander was creating. Him and Giles…playing with the kiddies at the schoolyard…and in tweed no less! Just what kind of hellish nightmare was this? “Please tell me there wasn’t more?”
“Trust me, I wish there wasn’t. I stood there watching you guys… ah, swing and Giles told me that you were like a son to him and he was going to make you a Watcher. I think I told him I had considered the position, but decided against it. But you seemed rather, uh, happy with the idea.”
“Take it back, Whelp! I’m not gonna be a bleedin’ Watcher! And I’ll never wear tweed, disgustingly scratchy stuff!” Spike grimaced as he thought about such a distasteful thing.
“Hey man, can’t help what I dreamt. And I promise to remind Giles how much he hates you if he ever contemplates making you a Watcher.” He laughed but then sobered quickly. “He won’t stop you know…”
Spike scowled into his cup. “Doesn’t matter. I won’t give her up.”
“We should all know that by now.”
“I think you’re comin’ around,” Spike said with a smirk.
“Maybe.” That was all Xander would agree to. He then hesitated as he asked Spike about something that had been bugging him since earlier that evening.
“Did you know this Lothos they were talking about? I mean, is there any chance that he could come after Buffy?”
Spike tried to remember what he’d come across as he was tracking the Slayer before leaving for Prague. “Don’t think so, Whelp. I happened to breeze by LA during that time and took in the carnage.”
He gulped. “Carnage?”
Spike chuckled. “Slayer was sloppy back then, left a mess with what she did to the school. Bodies of kiddies lying all around, bleedin’ from vamp bites, a soddin smorgasbord it was. Had a few nips myself.” He stopped once he realized the boy’s pallor. “Er, yeah… that’s when I was, uh, evil.”
Xander looked at him skeptically. “Sure.”
“Well…there wasn’t much left in ‘em really,” he admitted. “Did find the bloody poof’s cane though, dust all around it.”
“That was it?”
“Not really. Found Amilyn, Lothos’ lackey, hiding in the basement of the school. Soddin’ wanker just kept moanin’ about his bloody left arm and all that rubbish. Got sick of his ‘oooing and ahhhing’ and did the bloke a favor… staked him good and proper. By then I smelled the gasoline and smoke, so I hightailed it out of there before the school burned. Felt her all around the place, but she was gone by then. Took Dru to Prague after that… nasty nightmare it was.”
Xander nodded, taking Spike at his word, which was an odd feeling for him. He chalked it up to the fact that, if anyone would know about this Lothos, Spike would. He also struggled internally, wondering if he should tell Spike about what happened to Buffy before she came to Sunnydale. He knew that she was having trouble dealing with her Slayer duties and such, so he decided to take a chance and tell him. If anything, he could help her adjust to life again, knowing that he’d take care of her.
“She didn’t come directly here, you know… after what happened in LA,” he ventured.
Spike hadn’t known where she’d gone, losing her trail shortly before leaving for Prague. The whelp was volunteering information, and with the things that had been going on this evening, he wanted to endear a trust towards Xander. “I’m listening.”
Harris looked down at the cracks in the tile on the counter. “Her parents put her in a mental institution… for a couple weeks… for talking about vampires and being a Slayer. Told her there was no such things, that it was all in her head.”
Spike stopped the cup midway to his mouth. “What?”
“They tried to make her believe she wasn’t who she was,” he whispered, looking extremely uncomfortable.
Spike’s breath left him. He couldn’t believe Joyce would ever do such a thing, or allow her husband to recommend it. His jaw ticked with thinly held anger. “What did they do to her?”
Xander shifted his eyes from Spike’s heated glare. “She only told us about the group therapy sessions, but I think they sedated her a couple times, from what I can tell. She wasn’t too forthcoming with the ‘four-one-one’.”
Spike closed his eyes and swallowed against the sorrow he felt for Buffy. No wonder she was against letting people get close to her. How could you bring yourself to trust people who say they love you when they do something like that to you? Many, many things finally fell into place as Xander explained what had happened to Buffy.
“I think they kinda brainwashed her…they wouldn’t let her go until she renounced everything she’d been told to believe. Guess she convinced herself for a while that she was just an ordinary girl… ‘till she showed up in the library on her first day at Sunnydale High. Giles gave her a tome on vampires when she came in for some text books for her classes, which is not too subtle if you ask me.”
Xander heard Spike mutter bloody fucking wanker under his breath.
“I’m actually in agreement there…which in itself is scary.” Xander rubbed his forehead, heaving a deep sigh.
“You’d be surprised, mate, what we agree on,” he pointed out.
“I have a feeling you’re right – but don’t ever tell anyone about it. Have to keep up my image you know… of despising your guts and all.”
“As long as you don’t tell ‘em I the one nicking Burba Weed from the shop, we’re right as rain.”
“Anya wondered where that went to…”
“Not gonna be a ratfink are you?
“Got any first edition Superman’s?” Xander asked, trying to bargain.
“Pinched one back in the day, still in the plastic. You want it?”
“Deal.” Xander looked askance at the contemplative vampire. “I just made a deal with the undead. How the mighty have fallen.”
“Shut yer gob. Tell me more about Buffy.”
“Well, those first few days, Buffy looked really afraid, scared of her shadow… literally.” Xander stood up with his mug in hand and crossed to the sink to wash it out. “I mean, all this time she’d been programmed to believe this stuff wasn’t true. And then, to have it thrust into your face that Yes, Buffy, there is a Santa Claus – he just happens to be a demon is just a bit too much for some people to deal with. At one point she did accept it, but it was like a mask that she put on. Like, she went away… and only came back once in a great while.”
Spike nodded absently, urging him to continue. “Before she died though, you could catch glimpses, but after she came back… there was nothing there.” Xander turned to face him, his resolve hard and unflinching. “I know there’s a happy Buffy somewhere in there… and, God I can’t believe I’m saying this. I-if you’re the one causing her to be even the least bit happy and helping her… then… well… I want to help, if I can.”
Spike was, to say the least, astounded at the whelp. The boy had finally come to his senses, which spoke volumes about his character compared to his mates. Not wanting to rock the boat further, he nodded. “Thanks, mate. Glad to know you have her back.”
Xander nodded firmly and rinsed out his cup. “We’ve always had her back, even if we screwed up every now and… well, always I guess.”
“Road to Hell is paved with good intentions, they say. But I know you’re only tryin’ to protect her. Giles is another matter, however. Don’t know if he’ll let it go, mate. Might need a bit more convincin’.”
“It’s way wiggy for him right now, Spike. Truth be told, it is for all of us. I mean… she was always Super Buffy before, but now? She’s like Ultra Buffy. It won’t be easy for any one until we’re all comfortable with this… thing… that’s happening between you and her. Anya seems to understand what’s going on, but hell if I know. Right now, I’m just too tired to make sense of anything. I’ll ask her tomorrow…or maybe I’ll wheedle it out of her as I’m giving her many orgasms,” he preened, laughing lightly.
Spike laughed at Anya’s trademark description of her and Xander’s sex life. His laugh slowly died when he felt Buffy’s overwhelming sadness, cocking his head to listen more intently. He could still hear Buffy speaking, but it was muffled and far away from the house, so he walked over to the door and peeked out the blinds. She stood on the edge of the lawn, just beyond the shrubs. He narrowed his eyes, but again, nothing appeared to be there.
“Is she still out there?” Xander asked
“Yeah, she’s got her gob workin, but I can’t suss out who she’s jabberin’ to,” he muttered. “I only feel her heartbeat, but there’s something out there… and it ain’t human. Don’t smell or sense any danger, but I’m listenin’ just the same.”
Xander placed his cup in the drainer and wiped his hands on a dishtowel. “Maybe it’s a ghost,” he joked.
Spike looked askance at him. “Ghost my bloody arse. I’d still be able to sense that, Whelp.”
“What if the ghost didn’t want you to know, would you be able to sense it then?”
Spike thought for a moment. “Who knows, Harris, who knows…”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Many thanks to Dusty273 (Mari) and Im_Bloody_English (Tina) for making this look presentable - like a prom date!
YAY! I'm back from a much needed vacation - where again, some really weird shit happened (see the story Two Roads Diverged in a Wood for previous camp hijinks). I swear my family must be cursed to have vacations from Hell - Is our last name Griswald? Good news is, I didn't get dumped in the lake and I wasn't eaten by mating raccoons. Thank God for small miracles! It also allowed me to write more than usual and I should have another chapter of Hunter's Bane up soon!
As a personal side note, voting for the Cradle of Humanity awards has started - vote for your favorites today! *this message paid for by the committee to elect Frankenfurter as World Fashion Designer.*
And if any of you read Damper's rant on LJ about bad fics, I apologize in advance for the "Good God" or "Good Lord" Giles will use in this chapter. Everything else is staying put.
YAY! I'm back from a much needed vacation - where again, some really weird shit happened (see the story Two Roads Diverged in a Wood for previous camp hijinks). I swear my family must be cursed to have vacations from Hell - Is our last name Griswald? Good news is, I didn't get dumped in the lake and I wasn't eaten by mating raccoons. Thank God for small miracles! It also allowed me to write more than usual and I should have another chapter of Hunter's Bane up soon!
As a personal side note, voting for the Cradle of Humanity awards has started - vote for your favorites today! *this message paid for by the committee to elect Frankenfurter as World Fashion Designer.*
And if any of you read Damper's rant on LJ about bad fics, I apologize in advance for the "Good God" or "Good Lord" Giles will use in this chapter. Everything else is staying put.
Chapter End Notes:
Next: Buffy and Merrick have a heart to heart.