[A/N: Title is from a longer quote by the Bard, from Othello, act 3, scene 3. Quotes as attributed, disclaimers still in full force and effect, nothing but the plot and a few minor characters belongs to me]
Previously: Xander walked in on Buffy and Spike, who were just sleeping and blew his top. This picks up immediately after the last chapter
31. Dangerous conceits
An imprudent enemy is less dangerous than an imprudent friend.
Mason Cooley, City Aphorisms
There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love.
Martin Luther King, “Letter from Birmingham Jail”
Convictions are more dangerous enemies of truth than lies.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Samtliche Werke:
Kritische Studienausgabe, vol. 2
There is nothing more dangerous than the conscience of a bigot.
George Bernard Shaw, Election speech, 1904
Once again silence reigned in the Summers kitchen, this one with a deflated, almost defeated quality to it. Buffy was staring at Giles trying to figure out how he was reacting to this, but his face was blank, while Dawn unwrapped Spike’s bandages. Tara watched Xander, hoping somehow that her words had managed to reach him, but fearing the worst.
Anya wrung her hands, uncharacteristically silent. She didn’t know what to say. She knew Xander didn’t like Spike, but had no idea his dislike went so deep. It was almost as if Spike was the representative of all demons, something she’d been not that long ago. She wondered if Xander felt this way about all demons, or maybe it was just vampires that had an interest in Buffy.
Xander hung his head, for once thinking hard. He wasn’t quick like most of the girls, it took him a while to make up his mind about things, or change it once he’d made up his mind. Xander screwed up his courage and choked on his pride and any other cliches he could remember that signified what he was feeling at this moment. The last thing he wanted to do was leave this house, leave the girls. Hell, they were the only real family he had, but he really didn’t want to apologize to Spike. It was possibly the last thing he ever wanted to do. It wasn’t that he deep down hated Spike, because sometimes they could connect, it was just. . . . how in the world could Buffy prefer the dead to the living? That he couldn’t understand.
Weighing the cost, Xander came up with the only compromise his mind and his heart would allow. “I’m sorry for what I said Buffy” and taking a deep breath, “and Spike.”
Tara breathed a deep sigh of relief, as did Giles. Buffy looked at him and realized Xander had deliberately worded his apology to only encompass his words, not his actions or what he was thinking. For now, though, it was enough. She didn’t have the energy to get into a full blown discussion with anyone right now – especially not over Spike, the one person she could rely upon. Nodding her acceptance, Buffy turned her attention back to Spike.
Giles, ever practical, drew everyone’s attention away from what had just happened. “If we are all calmed down, I’ve some information to share about those hounds.”
Hissing at the pain as the last of the splints was removed, Spike growled a response to Giles. Tara had already moved to warm up some blood, and when the microwave pinged, she handed the mug off and waited for Giles to continue.
“You weren’t far off, Spike, when you mentioned the Baskerville hound” he paused, waiting for his audience’s full attention. “The Baskerville hound is just one of a pack, known as the Cwn Annwn” he pronounced it coon annoon, “literally the hounds of hell.”
“Its very unusual for all of them to appear at once. The white ones normally hunt down traitors, while the others claim souls destined for hell – sinners or wrongdoers, if you follow me.”
Curious despite her reluctance to jump back into slaying, Buffy asked, “so why is the pack all together in Sunnydale?”
“The why I’ve yet to discover, but how is fairly clear.” Looking down at the remains of breakfast, he said “it appears that when Willow opened the dimensional doors, the Cwn Annwn came through.”
He didn’t look at the redhead, but his disappointment and disapproval were clearly evident. Willow stiffened, but remained silent, for once wanting to avoid a conflict. Apparently the fracas between Xander and Spike was enough for one morning. “I’m also not positive they were the only entities to come through. We’ve no real knowledge of how long the portal was open and left untended. Nor do we know how many dimensions were linked to that particular portal.”
“Not good Watcher.” Spike spoke through tight lips, willing away the pain. “What else don’t we know?”
“The Cwn Annwn have a . . . well, they have a ‘handler’ for lack of a better term. I’ve found no evidence that he’s come with them, but also none that he hasn’t.”
Tara stared down at her hands. Willow did this, she let the hounds of hell loose in Sunnydale. No wonder Gaia had warned her about Willow, opening the portal and now, with what she’d blithely done this morning, this is so far from good. . . Tara tried to find her voice, but was discovering it difficult. “How . . . how are these hounds . . . what are they here for?”
“That is undetermined. But I believe that the pack is responsible for the dead girls Spike has found the past three nights.”
“Didn’t find any last night, Rupert, they found us first.”
“True, but I’ve no idea what happened after we got you away from them.”
Buffy’s inquiry cut to the heart of things. “So, how do we get rid of them?”
“I’m still working on that. We also need to know where they hide during the time they aren’t hunting.”
“Anyone up for daytime patrol?” Buffy asked, almost hoping Xander would volunteer.
Instead, Dawn piped up, “can I? Please?” Looking from Buffy to Giles to Spike, Dawn knew if she could convince one, the others would agree. “I’ll be totally careful. Bring a cell phone and everything. C’mon lemme go.”
Buffy looked at Spike, who shrugged, then Giles who gave her no help either. “I don’t know Dawnie . . .”
Willow’s voice broke in, saying “I’ll go with, Buffy, we should be okay.”
Xander, despite not wanting to have anything to do with the rest of them, couldn’t let the girls go on their own. Somewhat reluctantly, he said “count me in.”
“Okay, so you guys . . . Xander you know what you’re looking for and you can keep an eye on the girls. Don’t take any crazy risks and be back here – before nightfall.”
Buffy was suddenly all business, something both Giles and Spike were happy to see.
Anya stopped cleaning up and rinsed off her hands, saying to Xander “you can drop me off at the shop so I can open.”
As they all moved to get ready, Buffy pulled Dawn aside, saying “be careful, don’t take any crazy chances and stick close to the others. I’m trusting you to be smart about this.”
Practically dancing about in her excitement, Dawn hugged her. “I sooo promise. No stupid moves. This is soooo cool. You’re the best.”
Spike’s voice came from over her shoulder, “Niblet, be careful.” He started to say something else, then changed his mind. Handing her a wickedly sharp knife, Spike said, “just in case. Keep it close.”
And in less than fifteen minutes, they were gone, leaving only Giles and Tara behind with Buffy and Spike.
******************************** ***************************************
Spike was harboring no illusions about what had happened or what was about to. While he’d earned the grudging trust of the other Englishman, he didn’t for one instant think it would extend to sleeping with his slayer. Nor did he expect Buffy’s affections to last under the weight of everyone’s disapproval. Steeling himself for the coming ordeal and figuring he’d have at least a reprieve until dark, Spike prepared himself for the worst.
“How’s the hand?” Was the first thing out of the older man’s mouth which caught him a bit by surprise.
Holding it up for inspection, Spike flexed his fingers. “Not too bad considering damned near lost it last night.”
Tara took it in both her hands, turning it over so she could look at it. “Healing pretty well.”
Neither Giles nor Tara mentioned it, but they both figured Buffy had to have given more blood to Spike, because the bite marks had all healed, the scars around his hands were fresh looking and his fingers, at least two of them, were fine. His thumb and middle finger were still swollen and battered, but the bruises looked more like they’d been there for a couple of days, instead of being very fresh.
Giles took off his glasses, resting them on the counter. Without much of a preamble, he spoke. “I expect you both know what you’re doing.” Pausing momentarily, he went on “I can’t say I approve wholeheartedly, but,” he raised his eyes to look at both of them, “I can’t say I’m not . . . you’re both adults. Neither of you is my child, but Buffy, you’re the closest I’ll ever come to having my own daughter.”
Gathering steam, Giles took a deep breath. “I trust you enough to believe you know what you’re doing. Understand this, you” and he looked pointedly at Spike, “will never be good enough. I had hoped for more, for Buffy’s sake. If you make her happy, then fine. But hurt her in any way, any way. “ he emphasized the point by wagging a finger at Spike, “I will make your existence miserable.”
Putting his glasses back on, Giles continued, “that being said, you do realize I’m not the one you have to worry about.”
Buffy sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Yeah. Xander was pretty vocal about his thoughts.”
“Bloody fucking wanker” was Spike’s comment.
Half-heartedly swatting at him, Buffy went on to say, “I didn’t know he . . . what he said . . . “
“What he said Buffy, was way overboard.” Tara said. “But Xander’s got a lot of issues he has to work on.”
Spike snorted his comment, placing a small kiss on her forehead. “‘m sorry kitten. Shouldn’t have done any of that.”
“Not your fault Spike” Buffy leaned into his chest, needing some comfort. She didn’t say it, but Xander’s words had hurt, bringing up things she didn’t want to think about. Buffy was okay with being avoid-o girl right now. It was too hard to fight. Too hard living up to everyone’s expectations. One of the reasons it was easy being around Spike was because he didn’t expect anything, didn’t expect her to do anything more than just be. No pressure to go out and pretend everything was okay. And him being around protected her from a lot of the other things, like having to deal with stuff she just wasn’t ready to deal with.
“So Rupert, what didn’t you tell us about the hounds?” Wrapping his right arm around Buffy, Spike turned his attention away from Xander and his vitriol.
Giles’ sigh was almost a laugh. “Not much gets past you, does it?”
“Not likely, you people always underestimate me. C’mon Watcher, tell us the rest of it.” This was an old teasing argument between them that started when Spike had been held captive at Giles’ flat, and over the summer it had escalated as Giles had discovered Spike’s ability to speak several demon languages and, his previously undiscovered classical education. Spike never skipped an opportunity it rub it in Rupert’s nose that he was as educated and as knowledgeable as he was, if not more so.
“I believe the hounds are hunting, what, I’m not sure, but it doesn’t appear they are looking for Buffy. I’m rather worried what else may have come through.”
Glancing at Tara, who was finishing the clean up Anya had started, he said “I’m afraid what Willow did, bringing Buffy back from an unknown dimension may have dire consequences for the hellmouth. Right now there’s no way of telling what the effects are going to be. I don’t believe Willow did enough research.”
Tara shifted by the sink, knowing she should speak up, but almost afraid to – it might be disloyal to her girlfriend – but how much of a girlfriend was she anymore? Realizing she had to say something, Tara turned to face the other three, and told them what she and Dawn had walked in on earlier this morning.
Nothing but silence greeted her words, each of them thinking how innocuous the information sounded, how innocent the entire moment seemed to be, until it was weighed against Willow’s other actions.
The words of the not-prophecy flashed through Spike’s head and he suddenly realized part of what the girl had been telling him. The red one had to be Willow and he was coming to believe that the yellow one did mean Tara.
He was going to have to bring this up to Rupert later, sometime before he patrolled again, without Buffy. Which might be sooner than he thought, since it didn’t look like she was ready to go hunting ordinary vamps, much less a pack of mystical hounds.
Spike picked at a cold pancake “we need to watch Red, Rupes, girl isn’t thinking right. No telling what she’ll do next.”
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