Spike sat back with an unlit cigarette in his mouth as the hour for the meeting approached. He was dressed in his usual black-on-black ensemble with the duster surrounding him like armor. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night as he’d had to patrol for Buffy after he’d dropped her off at her place. Not that he was complaining, mind, considering the things that had gone down that night.
After leaving the shop and following Buffy to the whorehouse he’d had the privilege of watching Riley get his ass handed to him. Then he’d gotten his quota of violence by torching the place and dusting any undead present. Once this was done the Slayer had run like a bat out of Hell towards her home, him following her every move. She’d banged the kitchen door open and there, right in front of them, had been Joyce and the Watcher rubbing against each other.
The Slayer had once again gone ballistic, something that seemed to be a recurring theme for the night, and bitched about adults behaving like teenagers. Even Joyce’s attempt to restore order failed.
He’d also noticed Dawn watching them from upstairs and had sent her to bed with a pointed look. After the bitching and moaning was done, the Slayer had gotten it inside her pretty little head that the two Gods must have been responsible. She’d subsequently forgone any sleep – and if he knew his Slayer, also skipped shedding any tears over the Hall Monitor once in her bed – and had asked for immediate research into mind control. The chit got it into her head that the only reason Riley had cheated on her was not the fact that he was a pathological wanker with Peaches Syndrome, but the “evil influence of those Bendy and Z-whatsis”.
During the impressive rant, the watcher and Mum had kept stealing glances at each other as well as some fondling by the sly, old devil. Any and all moments Buffy turned her back on them, some random hand decided to go exploring and Spike had started keeping score. By the end, it was Joyce 15, Rupert 21. Once she’d run the course of her reasoning and ended up with the usual suspects: PTB, Council, himself, demons, whatever, she’d ordered him to go for info and started dialing, calling the whelp and the wiccas.
After scouring the town for info, hitting all the demon haunts and getting into more bar brawls than in the previous weeks put together, he’d gone to his crypt to recuperate, knowledge of anything brewing nowhere to be found.
He’d been awoken rudely by the whelp, citing the need for him to join the rest at the Magic Box to “prove you aren’t involved in this somehow, blood breath. If you are, it’s dust in the wind for you!” With only half an hour’s worth of sleep under his belt, Spike had gone through the sewers only to emerge in the midst of a somber gathering.
Everyone present had bags under their eyes and some of them had obviously foregone showering that morning. Also notable was the smell of spell-casting, strongest on Red. She’d obviously been a busy little bee throughout the night, as the magic vibes he got were all over the place. Glinda was also covered in magics, but she looked more composed than her obviously frantic girlfriend.
The sight of Joyce and Dawn hunched over ancient-looking books was a novelty that Spike took a moment to enjoy watching. His silent perusal over the concerned faces gathered around the research table was interrupted by the sight of a cranky, sleep deprived, ashen-faced Slayer planting herself in front of him and clenching her fists while raising an eyebrow.
He’d proceeded in telling the tale of his hunt for information, finished just hours ago, and the total lack of anything valuable to report. This earned him a flippant remark from Xander as he pretended to research, the corner of a comic book visible behind the ancient tome, and an angry dismissal from the Slayer. She’d then gone ahead and sorted out the weapons, deciding what she was going to use and started badgering everyone to find something faster.
By the time six o’clock came along, the wiccas had already attempted almost all the reversal spells in the pile of books around them, as well as an assortment of healing, centering, protection and dispersal spells. All in all, they had done everything they could think of, and Willow had started going on and on about more advanced spells to try. Taras’s gentle admonishment, dulled by the deep weariness in her voice, had gone all but ignored. There was trouble brewing there and Spike couldn’t help but feel something perhaps better left unsaid for the good witch – ‘I’m evil, I don’t feel sorry for white hats, even if they’re some of the better ones of the group.’
There had also been a moment of drama throughout the day, as in one of Xander and Anya’s trips to the basement “to get more supplies”. Buffy had snapped and had all but ordered them to stay put. This had led to Anya protesting loudly about capitalistic values that were being trampled by having them research on a Saturday and more importantly sexual… At which point Xander had told her to keep her opinions on the subject to herself. This in turn had earned an admonishment from Joyce and a lecture about mistreatment in a relationship. The chastised Scooby had apologized to his bewildered girlfriend and the watcher had used the diversion to put one of his hands on Joyce’s thigh, earning a yelp from her and a forceful removal from his chair by the Slayer.
Once order had been re-established they’d gone into battle mode. Joyce and Dawn were taken to the training room with Anya. At her insistence, Xander was sent as bodyguard for the female trio. The wiccas had set up a magic corner, with ingredients strewn all around them and books towering off the table. Giles had grabbed an axe and a broadsword and positioned himself to Buffy’s right.
She had various knives and stakes tucked into every article of clothing. The visible ones were a stake and a knife tucked at her back, outlined by the opal blouse she was wearing. Her blue jeans also revealed a bulge that could be another knife at the point where the ankle-high boots ended. One of the leather coat’s pockets was clearly the storage for holy water vials. What wasn’t visible intrigued Spike more, though. ‘To be able to start looking for every one of her hiding places, that would be something!’ She also had a bastard sword in her hands, ready to go all out if necessary.
Spike put the still unlit cigarette back in the pack and then chose an axe and got into position, off to the Slayer’s left, covering the wicca lovers if need be. ‘Buggered if I think this plan will work. Then again we’ve worked with a lot worse odds. That is to say them, the white hats, not us – there is no us. Bollocks!’ The minutes trickled slowly by as the tension mounted inside the shop. ‘Showtime!’
When the bell above the Magic Box door jingled at the agreed upon time signaling the entrance of the two Gods everyone was on edge. At the less than warm reception the only response from the two powerful beings was raised eyebrows and a smirk on Zamolxis’ face.
“What the hell have you done to us and how fast can you undo it before I make birdhouses out of your bones?” Buffy was taking no prisoners and she figured if she was being tampered with she might as well put into action the threats made when Whistler visited. She lifted her sword and pointed it at the male God’s head.
“Calm down, child, and all will be explained,” Bendis said before she turned to her companion to chastise him “See, I told you they would notice something amiss and jump to conclusions before we had the time to get to that part of the explanation. I told you to let me send her a slayer dream to explain some things but you kept going on and on about it being more fun this way. Well, is this the kind of fun you had in mind?” she said, pointing to the array of weapons trained on them.
“Slayer dreams are cheating, nothing more, nothing less. They were only meant as death sentences for the expats portrayed therein, not as replacement for an active representative. We told you this millennia ago, but you just wouldn’t listen! The human mind is too twisted not to start over-thinking everything and not twisted enough to understand your cryptic crap.” Spike snorted at Zamolxis’ words and all the others had to suppress their silent laughter at the two Gods’ bickering. Giles found himself wondering how much easier things would have been for Buffy had she had a direct link to her “employers”.
“Enough!” Buffy had had it. She wanted answers and she wanted them yesterday. “You,” she said, pointing at Bendis, “better start talking and pray you sound sincere or I’ll kick your Greek faces in!” Her voice was getting louder with every word.
“We are not Greek, dear!” Bendis felt the need to point out.
“I don’t care!” Buffy shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Fine, this is what you should know about your reaction towards our presence.” At the Slayer’s eager wave of her hand she continued, “As we have told you we are from both the Powers that Be and from Wolfram and Heart. The resulting fluctuations in energy are usually used in court to ensure the validity of the proceedings. In short,” she hastened to add at the look of annoyance on Buffy’s face, “those around us are forced to show their true faces.”
At the still skeptical expression on the faces of those present she elaborated, “As opposite parts of a trial, each of us brings out a different part of the defendant. The result is that lies, deception and masks are negated and the true personality of the ones we come in contact with is brought to light. In essence, you are unchanged, but the things that make you behave in another way than your inner selves – such as what you perceive as being expected of you, or the things you choose to hide in order to not offend others – are eliminated.”
“Oi, than why’m I not affected?” Spike wanted to know.
“You are! It just takes different amounts of time to manifest itself in different individuals and species. The humans are probably the most susceptible to this, as they are less used to our abilities than other species.” Bendis hid her smile at the brief look of horror on the vampire’s face. He was probably thinking of his human self making a guest appearance. This would be fun, just like Zamolxis said it would be.
“So what you’re saying is that you being here is what, making us do what we want without rules? How do we stop it, ‘cause I sure don’t want the evil dead here going around trying to bite people and being more annoying than usual?” Buffy found she could manage to control what she said to a certain degree and so she didn’t list her whole list of worries.
“Why didn’t Spike try and bite anyone?” Willow wanted to know. “Maybe I should just get a spell ready to control him just in case. Or I could cast something like the Prime Directives from Robocop to make everyone behave as usual. Or I could…”
“You will do nothing if you know what is good for you, witch! You are treading a narrow path and the firm I represent has barely been able to keep you off the ‘to be slain’ list for your transgressions.” Zamolxis seemed to gain height and power, his clothes billowing forth from the surges within.
“What the hell is your problem, devil’s advocate? I’m human so don’t fall under your almighty court. And what the hell is wrong with me casting spells?” Willow’s eyes started to have flecks of black swimming in them and her face was distorted in rage. The rest of their audience seemed to disappear from the mind of the enraged redhead as she defended herself.
“You are a child with too much power for your own good. You cast spells without thinking of the consequences of your actions. In your future – our past – your uncontrolled meddling in the laws of nature caused enough harm to damn you to a prison planet. That is if you weren’t already on one.” Bendis had lost all the kindness in her voice and face, becoming even scarier than Buffy in Slayer Mode.
Everyone in the room chimed in at once and the door to the training room banged open letting those who had been listening to everything tumble out. Their curiosity was too much to just stand idle.
“LUATI LOC!” bellowed Zamolxis and everyone save Bendis complied, even though they didn’t understand the command, and took a seat.
“We have no time for this posturing and name calling. You may think you’re smart, but you are here to help us, not misinterpret everything like five-year-olds.” Zamolxis was livid with anger, even though he was delighted inside at the new turn of events. “We will control the effect our presence has on you in time, as we become accustomed to your way of acting and thinking. For the time being, however, you shall have to just be yourselves and endure a bit of honesty for a change. I’m pretty sure it will even do you good to not pretend you’re someone else for a while.” The hostility on the others’ faces did not lessen at his words by much. ‘Let the games begin!’ Zamolxis thought to himself.
“First of all, the reason why Spike hasn’t started either attempting to kill everyone or reverted to his previous human self is the fact that, apart from some things he views as damaging to his image or possible weapons to be used against him, he is who he is. However much he may be in denial about it, he has changed from the bloodthirsty vampire he was to the bloodthirsty vampire he is – just the color and the source of the blood he is shedding has been altered. The change from human to expat targets is now almost ingrained within himself and even without any of you noticing” he continued pointing to Giles, Xander, Buffy and Willow “he has become just as committed to the ‘white hats’, as he calls them, as any of you.”
At Buffy’s disbelieving snort and Spike’s horrified face he went on, “All of you have done things that in your own definition are ‘evil’. And more such things were in your future. If I were to tell you the things you are capable of, you would have nightmares, make no mistake about it. Willow, you are chief amongst the offenders.” This earned a new round of rebuttals from Willow, Buffy and Xander and requests for more information from the rest, Dawn breaking her silence for the first time at that.
“The charges against you are,” Bendis took up the challenge in her best prosecutor voice, “performing magic without a license from the Gods; failing to invoke the protection of said Gods; performing spells without knowledge of their exact consequences; misusing spells for trivial matters; changing the wording and the ingredients without consulting anyone, or researching anything about the possible results of the alterations; performing spells without supervision while still an apprentice; and abusing your power to make others bend to your will. How do you plead?” She silenced everyone except the witch in question by a mere thought.
“What’s the big deal with a few alterations?” Willow’s tone sounded bored, petulant, flippant and belligerent at the same time, grating on everyone’s nerves save Xander, whose loyalty to his friends and innate distrust of demons made him ignorant to the importance of what was being said.
“Are you deluded, little one? Do you know what you have almost caused on numerous occasions? Did a visit by the ruler of the vengeance demons not teach you anything except how to better master your cooking skills? Is Tara’s influence so small that her much more level head cannot bring you down from your delusions of grandeur?” Bendis was incensed. “Let me explain a little something. Every time you cast without invoking the right deities, you allow energies to be used without consent. This lessens the power of the gates to your world – such as the Hellmouth itself – and allows easier access for forces you could not contain even with all the resources of your planet.” With each sentence Willow started to lose a bit of her attitude and became just a little bit more afraid of what was being said. A great incentive to this was the fact that she was unable to move and even speak, despite her almost-complete confidence in her abilities as a witch. It was slowly becoming clear to her that she was in over her head trying to go toe-to-toe with these beings and it was a chilling conclusion.
“The eyes of the Universe are trained on this spinning rock as each world keeps tabs on its expats. Some of these worlds are led by very expansionistic demigods that would like nothing better than to gain complete control over this planet in order to ensure an income based on the reality show that is your lives. Also some of those incarcerated here have friends elsewhere just waiting for some weakness to present itself in order to either take over this place or spring their friends out and cause havoc on others. The path you are on could lead you to become a real member of the expat community and force the active Slayer – whomever she might be at the time, even Buffy – to hunt you down and execute you.”
Willow’s eyes were filled with horror and dismay at the thought, as were Buffy’s and everyone else’s. None of them had seriously thought about spells this way, perhaps save Tara and Anya. The first was amazed that she hadn’t caught on to her lover’s obvious lust for power while the second felt herself vindicated for all the times Xander had taken the witch’s side against her. Spike was shaking his head, thrilled that one of the self-righteous Scoobies was being put down, while at the same time a bit scared of the magnitude of the implications. Giles was mentally kicking himself for not noticing the signs of Willow’s trek along the path he himself had traveled as Ripper. Xander had once had to stake a friend and that memory would haunt him forever, so for him the thought of Buffy being forced to take down Willow was like a punch to the stomach.
“For this alone you deserve punishment, but your later actions would have earned you a place in your fabled Hell. Since here and now those actions are not an issue I will only state that if you do not seek guidance from now on, if you continue to tweak spells without consent and if you ever try to manipulate your friends again – something that is in essence rape, an offense even by human standards – you shall be prosecuted to the fullest extent.” Bendis was cold and uncaring in her warning, her demeanor sending shivers down Willow’s spine.
“Considering the pact now in effect, you will not receive counsel from us, as we ourselves find any and all punishment fitting of your crimes,” Zamolxis felt himself obliged to add with barely disguised malice. Another wave of Bendis’ hand and they were all free to speak. Words, however, eluded them.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
First of all sorry for the delay in updates and there will apparently be another delay after this one as Kristi has announced me that she will no longer be beta-ing my fic. Also chapter 11 is proving to be a real bitch to write and this, coupled with RL has slowed me down almost to a halt.
As always thanks to my girl, Sotia (especially for her pimping my work) and to the "so evil she's good" Carrie. And thanks to Kristi for looking over this one.
As always thanks to my girl, Sotia (especially for her pimping my work) and to the "so evil she's good" Carrie. And thanks to Kristi for looking over this one.
Chapter End Notes:
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