* Sunnydale High Library, Less than fifteen minutes later*
Buffy stormed into the library, startling the six people huddled around the research table. Cordelia had joined her friends, although she kept herself well away from the other occupants of the room and made a big show of inspecting her nails. The Slayer didn't miss, however, the inquisitive looks she was throwing every which way when she thought nobody was looking. Jenny Calendar had also joined the group and was sitting beside Giles, their hands almost touching.
Xander got up, that same excitement as before showing on his face. As soon as he saw the stormy look on Hank's face, however, the young man seemed to shrink in on himself and collapsed back in the chair. Buffy was curious to find out exactly what had gone on between her father and her best male friend, but filed it away for future scrutiny, more interested in finding out if what Spike had written was possible. Had he saved her from the Master again? ’Cause if he did, there is major squickage about vamps coming back to, well, death. Or is it life? Or undeadedness?
Shaking off her thoughts, she slammed her hand with the piece of paper written by Spike on the table. “Is what he says here true?” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears, but she ignored the dubious look thrown her way by Willow.
Both Giles and Hank hunched over the piece of paper without touching it, seemingly afraid they could dispel whatever magic it might have held. After Jenny cleared her throat and nudged the Watcher, he read the letter aloud. In traditional Giles’ fashion, he ignored the other people's gasps and comments until he was finished reading, after which he removed his glasses for a hearty bout of cleaning.
Hank pinned Buffy with a long, penetrating stare that reminded her of when she was a little girl, and she had done something to make her daddy mad. “Spike, as in the guy who came into our house pretending to be your boyfriend?” Hitching breaths could be heard all around the table, except for Cordelia and Jenny, who apparently weren't that familiar with the story of Buffy's undead rescuer.
“Good Lord, Buffy, he did what?” Giles almost went to take off his glasses again, until he realized he was still cleaning them. Unsure exactly what to do, he started to bite down on one of the handles.
“What is it with the undead and the Buffster?” Xander looked furious, but another hard glare from her dad made him sit down and bow his head.
“Okay, what gives with you and Xander, dad?” Buffy felt like diverting attention from Spike might be in her best interest at the moment, so she decided to investigate the curious effect her father had on her friend.
Hank answered his daughter without taking his eyes off the now cowering boy, whose face was getting redder and redder. “That's between me and him. I promised I wouldn't dictate who you associate with. Although I still do have questions about Spike.”
“Yeah, does this mean that Angel is on the market?” Cordelia piped in, her eyes lighting up with the prospect of getting her hands on one of the hottest older guys around.
Flashing her an annoyed look, Buffy squashed the brunette's hopes. “No, he and Spike's ex, Drew or something, left together.” She mouthed to Willow that they would talk later, when the redhead seemed ready to burst with all the questions running around in her head.
“Buffy, exactly how many times did you engage Spike this summer?” Giles had his spectacles back on and was surreptitiously reaching for his Watcher Diary.
“Three?” She flashed an apologetic smile and batted her eyelashes, looking for all the world like an innocent little girl.
“Good God, Buffy, why was I not informed? I could have researched, come to train you, projected a method of attack.” Managing to breathe when Jenny laid a calming hand on his shoulder, Giles inhaled deeply then slumped back in his chair. “He has already killed two Slayers. What you did was utterly foolish.”
Getting up from the chair she’d been occupying ever since her Watcher had finished reading Spike's note, Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “You don't even know what happened; how do you know it was foolish?”
“Because you failed to inform your Watcher—the very person charged with helping you with such matters.” Giles seemed genuinely upset about what had happened and Hank wondered exactly how much of the man’s worry was Watcher-Slayer and how much was more, from a sense of some sort of almost parental bond. If the Watcher really cared for Buffy more than just for the Slayer, the man could really be trusted with the well-being of his daughter.
Buffy huffed with annoyance, something her father was very familiar with. “Well, I'm informing you now. Let's not forget, I was supposed to be on vacation. You told me summers were dead, pun not intended. He first found me in a club, minding my own business. We fought, and it was a draw.”
“A draw with William the Bloody? How was that possible?” Giles' anger had all but vanished, replaced by academic interest.
The Slayer blushed a little at the memory of how exactly they had gotten to the draw, but decided she didn't need the aggravation of everyone dissecting whatever there was between her and the Master Vampire. “We both gave as good as we got, but nobody killed no-one.” Giles winced at the mangling of his mother tongue, but thought better than to interrupt his Slayer. “So, we both went our separate ways. Then he came to dad's place, going on and on about how I cost him his Drew and some-such. Before I had a chance to do anything, he had convinced my dad he was my boyfriend and had gotten an invite.”
Hank winced at the memory. “I didn't know any better, so when I saw a man with my daughter, I thought the worst,” he explained. “Apparently the worse was not bad enough, as it turned out. Long story short, he almost had me going for a while, until he suddenly got me by the throat and raised me off the ground.” He shuddered at the memory of that traumatic event. “If Buffy hadn't kicked him away, I would have been dead for sure. Then his face morphed into that monster image, and he promised Buffy he'd see her again and then threatened me to never invite another like him in my home.”
While Hank recovered from the memory of Spike's visit, Buffy took up the tale. “Then Dad went all out and got me enrolled to all these self defense classes and a gym and everything.” Brightening up all of a sudden, she looked at Hank eagerly. “I talked to my trainers, and they said there are some similar places around here. Maybe I'll get to continue my training here, as well.”
Giles piped up, despite feeling like things were moving somewhat beyond his control. “I already discussed it with Mr. Summers, and we both agreed that some techniques and styles you would better learn from professionals, rather than from me. However, that will not interfere with our regular training sessions.”
With a brilliant smile threatening to split her face, Buffy all but bounced in place. “Thank you -- that's so cool!”
Cordelia shook her head in defeat. “You people are crazy. The only thing a girl should be that excited about should be a makeover or a spa day.” She trailed off, getting a dreamy look on her face.
“So, can anyone join, or is it for, you know, experts?” Willow asked, still eager to get the full scoop she felt Buffy had carefully left out of her story. Like boys. Or men. Or... Spike-shaped men.
“Sure, Wills, we'll all go.” With a more serious look, Buffy got back to her story. “I started patrolling again and one night, while on patrol, I got into more than I could handle. There were like fifteen vamps that had captured some girls and were getting ready for a midnight snack. I couldn't just leave them to it, so I jumped in.” Furrowing her brow and letting her eyes drift into the distance, Buffy ignored her audience, reliving the fight in her mind. “They had almost surrounded me when Spike jumped in and took on half of them. Between the two of us, just three vamps managed to run away, while we stayed to untie the girls they'd caught.”
“Fascinating.” Giles was busy scribbling away notes, no doubt preparing a long-winded entry in his diary. “And why did he help you?”
“He didn't really get to say, before some demons jumped us.” Shivering with disgust, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “They were really ugly, and it took everything we had to make it out alive.” Scrunching her face a bit, she amended, “Well, he was still dead, just not dead-dead, you know?”
“Yes, intriguing, Buffy. Please, do go on.”
The Slayer briefly wondered how much faster the pen had to move before the paper caught on fire. From the looks of things, not that much. “Well, after that, we got into another fight, but we were both so tired, we ended up with another draw.” Buffy prayed the blush rising up her cheeks wouldn't give away the real story, but she feared that at least Willow and perhaps even Jenny—by the looks she was giving her—had caught on to the truth. “Anyway, he promised me we'd settle it here, and here we are. The end.” She took a seat and hoped nobody would question her further. She should have known better.
“So, is he hot?” Cordelia asked trying to sound as blasé as possible about it. Willow helped her by opening a book and pointing to the picture of Spike from around the First World War. “Hairstyle and clothes are atrocious, but he has potential,” the cheerleader noticed, and the redhead nodded her agreement.
Buffy felt a surge of... something she was afraid to name herself, and decided to set Cordy straight. “Imagine him looking more like Billy Idol.” She felt very satisfied when both girls—as well as Jenny—took another look at the picture in the book, no doubt trying to imagine the Master Vampire, and doing their best not to drool. Take that, Queen C!
Cordelia tried to save face again. “That look is so eighties.” The slight tremor in her voice told another story, though. If she could, she would sample the goods.
Buffy congratulated herself for being acutely aware of almost every curve and hard surface on the vampire's body. And his mouth! She snapped out of her lusty thoughts when she heard Giles call her name over and over again. “What?”
“I said, I shall require a detailed account of every encounter, complete with a blow-by-blow description. It may prove vital in further confrontations.” He adjusted his glasses again, the paper in front of him filled with his neat and evenly spaced script.
Buffy narrowed her eyes. “And the Master's bones?”
Giles jumped like someone had burned him and went straight for a book he had to have known would hold the answer. After a few minutes of fruitless search, he finally found the paragraph he was looking for. “It seems that Spike was accurate to a fault in his description,” he noted. “Had he not taken the bones to smash and disperse them over a body of running water, the Master could, indeed, have been resurrected by shedding the blood of those closest to him.” Getting a pensive look, he considered the implications. “This, coupled with Spike's note, seems to suggest closeness to imply proximity to his body during his demise, rather than any other bond.” Re-reading the whole thing, the full meaning became clear, and he looked up, aghast. “I should have researched this beforehand. I'm sorry, Buffy, for my oversight. I was just so relieved to have you back, I never thought...”
“It's okay, Giles, it's done now.” Buffy didn't feel as calm as she tried to appear. Inside, she recognized she was a lot more relieved knowing the Master was truly gone for good.
Getting a pensive look, Giles asked the question the others were asking themselves as well. “Are you sure Spike really did what he said he did? What if he just took the bones to perform the ritual himself?”
Buffy felt stung by the implication, and her mind refused to believe it. “He did it. I just know he did it, Okay?” I hope he did it. I hope he didn't betray me. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she got up, ready to go continue her patrol. He wouldn't do that, would he?
~~~***~~~
*an old factory across town, later that night*
Spike watched as the ritual was set up. Personally, he hated the blasted things, but sometimes the ends justified the means.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Here it is, as promised, another installment. I fordot to mention that the previous chapter was beta-ed by MAri, whereas from here on it's the work of Marilyn Rowan. A great 'Thank you!' goes out to both, as well as to my wife, Sotia.
Chapter End Notes:
I'm actually more than halfway through the 12th chapter at this point, so here's hoping the muse sticks with it.