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Chapter Eleven


The hellmouth turned up nothing of note. It was empty and charred and at least superficially dead. Except for the rats. And the water and debris everywhere from the hurricane. Even Spike hadn’t been able to detect any hint of spells being cast.



“It’s a good thing Giles didn’t come with us. He’d be very upset about the rats gnawing on his books,” Buffy said as they strode through the long hallway that led out, glad to be away from the scratching noises and the squeaking.



“I’m assuming he got the books of importance out of the library before you blew it up. And before the hurricane drenched them all.” Spike held the door open for her.



Buffy’s eyes were focused on the sky and the trees – what was left of them. The leafless branches that hadn’t broken off were starting to move with the breeze – more than when they’d entered the school. The sky was still overcast, and she swore she felt a drop on her cheek with the open door.



“Know what’s really weird?” Buffy asked, glancing back at him.



Spike’s boot scuffed over a bent license plate at the school’s entrance as he focused on re-opening the umbrella. “What?”



“There’s no sound of bugs.”



“The cicadas.” Spike tilted his head as he listened. “You’re right. Nothing.”



“It’s eerie. Now that they’re not there.” The cicadas were like constant ambient noise, and the silence they left behind was deafening.



“Storm’s powerful.” Spike nodded at something in the distance. “That sign looks like a bloody pretzel.”



Buffy’s eyes followed where Spike indicated. The sign that usually displayed the messages for the school like teacher birthdays and impending holidays or the Razorback ball games had been void of said messages for two years. Now, the legs holding it up were twisted and bent in ways that seemed impossible. “Almost like Slayer strength level power. Or apparently Glory-level.”



Spike regarded her. “This Glory. She’s strong?”



Buffy almost winced at the memory of being thrown around like a sack of potatoes. She hadn’t experienced that since Giles had rendered her helpless on her eighteenth birthday. “Very.” She swallowed and admitted more than she ever thought she’d admit to Spike. “She’s. . . not like anyone I’ve ever faced. I-I honestly don’t know how I’ll defeat her.”



Spike scoffed. “’Course you will. You’re the best sodding Slayer I’ve ever met. You’ll figure out a way. Plus, you have family and friends. Most Slayers don’t.”



Buffy wasn’t too sure about his confidence in her. “You just think you know Slayers because you killed a couple.” She suddenly couldn’t imagine him killing her. She didn’t want him to. Maybe she wanted him to do other things to her.



“I know a little. Yeah. But again, you’re not like any other.”



“Pedestal much?” Why did he seem so fascinated by her? Why was she drawn to him? She had no idea.



“No, I’m saying it as I see it. I don’t sugarcoat. Thought you knew that about me.” He was right. He didn’t sugarcoat. Hardly ever. Never with her.



She didn’t with him either. Nope, she was a Slayer who plunged right in. “Do you still have feelings for Harmony?”



Spike practically choked – on what Buffy wasn’t sure. “Feelings for? You mean am I in love with Harmony?”



Now it was Buffy’s turn to stumble over what looked like a chunk of someone’s roof. There wasn’t much avoiding it. Pieces were strewn all over the parking lot. “Maybe. Yeah.” She righted herself, picked up the offending piece that had tried to attach itself to her shoe, and tossed it to one side. “Yes.”



“Why do you care?” Now, Spike was back to being snarky and avoiding her gaze, but she wasn’t sure why.



“I dunno. It just seems like you still care a lot about her. The way you treated her a minute ago. . . . And I care.” Buffy wasn’t sure what she cared about, but she was starting to think she did care about Spike in some form or fashion.



Spike still wouldn’t look at her. “There are feelings there. Sure.”



“Oh.” She hopped over the thick rod of a fallen street light and pushed a stray hair out of her face from where the wind had blown it.



“But she’s no Dru.”



“Drusilla meant a lot more to you. Well, I guess it makes sense since you were together for so long.” Buffy swallowed. Drusilla had meant a lot to Angel, too. Was she jealous of Drusilla now? She had been then when she didn’t understand what the vampire meant to Angel.



“Length of time in a relationship doesn’t always mean the love is deep and long-lasting.” Buffy saw pain flicker across his face. “Dru. . . I loved the crazy bint. Deeply.” There was a ton of affection in his tone. “But I’ve always been a bit old fashioned.”



Color Buffy confused. She glanced at his face, and he looked like he wished he hadn’t just said what he did. But now she was really curious. “Old fashioned?” Not a word she thought of when it came to Spike. Beyond his bleached hair and leather, he was a modern vampire.



He sighed. “Monogamous. Most vampires aren’t. And as such, there was a piece of me. . . ” He stopped in his tracks.



Buffy halted with him and touched his forearm, waiting. She was surprised he didn’t bat her hand away.



He closed his eyes. “A piece of me she never had the key to.” He gritted his teeth, working his jaw and abruptly pushed forward and away from Buffy.



Buffy stood stunned for a moment as Spike pressed onward. Then, she ran to catch up with him, dodging more debris, her mind working overtime to make sense of her own thoughts.



When pulled alongside him again, Buffy admitted, “I know what you mean.”



“Yeah?” Spike’s face softened in relief, and Buffy was glad he was allowing himself to see her again. “Feel that way with Angel or with what’s his name? Soldier boy? Where is he anyway?”



“Angel. I’m not sure.” Parts of their relationship had been so traumatic that she still hadn’t fully processed it. But with Riley? That was a different story. “For sure with Riley. And he’s not around anymore.” Her insecurity reared its ugly head, and her stomach ached.



“I can see he’s not around. No one’s around.” Spike waved a brief hand around the emptiness of their surroundings. “Even the insects left. Or rather blown away.”



“No. We broke up,” Buffy confirmed. “He left Sunnydale for good. Rejoined the Initiative or what’s left of it.” Her fear slipped out before she could stop it, and a sudden tear accompanied it. “And it just makes me wonder if I’ll ever be worth sticking around for.”



Spike rounded in front of her, narrowly missing her with the edge of the umbrella. He reached out a thumb to wipe away the tear. Buffy leaned into the touch. He was being so gentle with her. Why?



“’Course you’re worth sticking around for. Them leaving has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with them.” Buffy could see the genuine caring in his eyes, and she didn’t flinch away from it.



“I don’t know,” Buffy said uncertainly, studying the ground.



“People who care about one another fight for their relationship with the inevitable ups and downs. Them giving up the fight says they couldn’t handle the work.”



Something eased a little in Buffy’s heart – some hidden pain that she had been stubbornly ignoring. “Fight for it like by torturing the other person until they come around?” Now, she was teasing him.



To her surprise, Spike didn’t react defensively. He merely shrugged. “That was the way of me and Dru. I don’t have anything else to compare it to.”



Before Buffy could reply, Giles’s car raced up and screeched to a halt next to them. Giles’s hair was sticking wildly in all directions as if he’d run his fingers haphazardly through it over and over again, his glasses were askew, and his clothes were more rumpled. The passenger side door of his car burst open, and there was a lot of feminine grunting as someone was ejected from the back.



A pale, lumpy-looking creature with stringy long hair swayed before them. His facial expression revealed his panic.



Harmony climbed out behind him with a little huff of indignation. “I said to move it!” she said to the creature in irritation.



“I take it you didn’t make it to the basement,” Spike said with some irony as if he and Buffy hadn’t been having a very serious discussion. “Unless this is the bloke you bit.”



Harmony stuck her tongue out at Spike, muttering a barely perceptible, “As if.”



“You are correct about the basement.” Giles angled out of the car. “And he claims to be a servant of Glorificus.”



“Glory,” Buffy breathed, sniffing away the bits of her vulnerability and re-donning her Slayer hat.



“Is that true, mate?” Spike asked.



Harmony jabbed the minion in the ribs, acting tough. “Speak up!”



The minion wheezed a little and then fidgeted with the sleeves of his brown robe. “Y-yes.”



“Tell them what you were looking for,” Harmony demanded.



“The Key. Always on the hunt for the Key for her most glorious.”



Giles rushed around the front of his car. “And look here.” He held up his car keys. The metal was glowing a neon green color. It was subtle but definitely present. “Didn’t notice before, but I’m thinking this has something to do with the spell.”



The minion stared at Giles’s keys as if mesmerized. When he made to snatch them from Giles, Buffy blocked his hand much more gently than Harmony.



“Tell me what the purpose of the spell is,” Buffy demanded.



The minion’s eyes flicked around, and when he stayed silent, Harmony kicked him in the shin.



“Ow!” The minion rubbed his leg. “To find the key. The spell will help us find the Key, and the storm ensures that we have all the time we need to find the Key and present it to her most effervescent.”



“Um, that doesn’t make much sense because people probably took their – ” This time, Giles kicked Harmony lightly on the shin. “Ow!”



“Hmm. What do we do with him?” Spike asked.



Buffy bit her lip. “Well, we don’t know where Glory’s been staying.”



“That’s because her most resplendent self has been resting in preparation,” the minion said before clapping his hand over his mouth. “Oh.”



Giles focused on Buffy. “You said she’s powerful.”



“She’s the most powerful being I have ever known,” the minion murmured, straining to reach for Giles’s keys with a look of wonder on his lumpy face.



Ignoring the minion and switching his keys into his other hand, Giles continued, “We should see what we can find out about her. Some reconnaissance seems in order.”



“You mean spying on her?” Harmony blurted.



“Spying, yes,” Spike said. “At least get the lay of the land before the storm rolls back in.”



“Precisely,” Giles acknowledged with a nod.





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