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chapter 19, stay – part III

Giles folded his six-foot frame into the driver’s seat of his 1999 red Mazda Miata MX-5 convertible and gripped the steering wheel tightly. It had taken him six hours to get as far as the car, and he was feeling the agony of indecisiveness in his bones. He couldn't let doubt stop him, especially now that he was actually sitting inside the vehicle. No, nothing was going to bloody well stop him. He was going to get this done. He slammed the door shut with determination.

He then saw Xander stumbling toward him and released the wheel, avoiding the temptation to drive off without him. His newly asserted conviction faded rapidly as he grappled with the knowledge of how little he trusted Xander. Wasn't the boy's fault, though. A Watcher was trained to aid slayers. Not to cast spells on humans and lead a troubled young man to possible death. Bollocks, he grumbled, maybe he was the one who needed faith. Giles dropped his hands into his lap and closed his eyes. This excursion wasn't going to go as smoothly as it had the first time. He just knew it.

All morning, he’d fretted over his decision about the trip to the desert and returning to the spot where only a few months before he’d helped Buffy call forth the first Slayer. Giles knew he had no other choice. He had to perform this ritual and cast another thought spell to ensure the Scoobies had a chance of surviving.

However, the desert ritual wasn’t about Buffy this time. He pushed his glasses up on his nose as he studied the hulk of a boy lumbering toward his car. This time Xander Harris would be searching for answers from the past.

Giles had made up his mind during the night as he lay on the sofa while he replayed in his head what he’d seen in his nightmare. At dawn, he’d sat up and started talking to Xander, who had slept in the chair in the living room, about the visceral connection between heaven and hell and the origin of demons and witches. The boy had to know these things in order to do what was necessary. Giles was no longer feeling the negative effects of the portal jumper’s visit inside his head, and had to make certain that Xander understood everything he'd seen and what must be done. Giles contemplated locating a Sharpie and a flip chart to get his points across. But he couldn’t remember if he’d kept any supplies in the apartment after the last time he’d used them. All Giles knew was that Xander had to be prepared immediately. He had to be ready to do what was necessary to save the world, and save their girls who were in a battle they couldn’t possibly understand in a city on the other side of the sodding continent.

“So, this is another Apocalypse?” Xander interjected.

“What do you think happens to the world if the devil and his wife get into a really big fight?” Giles queried. He cocked his head in reply as Xander’s eyes stretched wide. “Okay, it’s going to be much worse than a thunderstorm in the sunshine,” added Giles realizing how close his words were to an old wives’ tale.

“But yes, Xander, I’m afraid it will mean the end of the world.”

Giles then flipped through page after page of the Zy Qasdor, volumes one through six in numerical order, showing Xander numerous passages on the first demon societies and their rules. Finally, after a few hours, Giles had said his peace. Xander was blank faced, and ashen with fatigue. Giles shoved the books aside and told him to pack his knapsack. It was time for them to go.

The ‘thought’ spell had given Willow access to the powers of the first witch. Giles believed going to the desert and calling forth the first witch to help Willow was his best shot to save her, Buffy, Anya, Tara and Dawn. If Willow was going to battle the Shemhazi, she needed more power.

“Not the best idea I’ve heard today,” Xander had said when he told him. “But if it’s all we’ve got…”

“It is.” Giles had raised his eyebrow above the rim of his spectacles for emphasis.

Giles quickly packed his bag, tucking in an extra wool sweater and the other tools he would need for the ritual. He gave the room a last inspection, looking for any forgotten items. The King James Bible. He added it to the bag, they definitely couldn’t leave without it. Xander had chanted from the book to ward off the portal jumper when Giles had been under his influence the night before.

Lifting the bible in the air, he'd raised his voice to get Xander’s attention. “Just in case we don’t get this done before my head starts hurting again,” he said risking a slight wink, but then he saw Xander’s pained expression.

“Why can’t you be the one wandering around in the desert, looking for the first witch and I do the bong shaking and sitting cross-legged in the sand, singing without backup in the wrong key?”

“It has to be you, Xander.” Giles couldn't deny that he understood Xander’s lack of enthusiasm. Somehow the two of them had remembered their respective lost thoughts. Xander was operating on old-fashioned Xander time. No frightened little boy hiding in the shadows from everyone except Willow. He was back to being the bloody wholesome Scooby next door.

Giles had regained his lost thought, too. He could think again. Only problem was Giles didn't know why they were back to being their old selves. He also had no clue why the portal jumper or Shemhazi hadn't killed them. It just didn't make sense to Giles for Luke to give him so many clues in the dream and then forget about him, unless some kind of ‘powers that be’ had weighed in with a significant dose of helpfulness. But Giles didn't believe in divine intervention.

So it was up to Giles to sort things out, and he did sort out Xander. His stolen thought gave Xander the powers of an Empath demon. He was the only one who could get inside Willow's head and help her control her rages. And a Willow with more power could bloody well mean more rage, reasoned Giles.

As Xander settled his body into the passenger seat, Giles loosened his grip on the wheel and doggedly started a one-sided discussion on demon hierarchies and their use of magic to enforce their laws. Eventually, he asked Xander if he remembered the tools used by the fallen angels to dole out their justice. “Don’t forget the elements of nature…fire, water, and wind. And the witches, their justice is executed with words and plants grown in the ground.”

Xander leaned back wearily in the passenger seat, his knees nearly pinned against his chest.

Giles knew he was prattling on and on, stalling. He jammed the key into the ignition and revved the engine. “Xander, you’d better listen. We’ll have only one chance. Do you understand?”

Xander cracked the knuckles of his left hand with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. He then adjusted his legs, straightening them as much as he could in the small space behind the dashboard.

“No, I don’t really understand.” He looked at Giles. “You make these two bastards sound unbeatable, this Shemhazi and Luke. They’re just a couple of bad asses. Our job, as always, is to help Buffy slay the big bad. But now you want to help Willow gain more power? Why? If a fight between her and Shemhazi means the end of the world, what's she gonna do with more power except get into a really big fight?”

“She can’t.”

“Who? Can’t what?”

“Buffy can’t slay one of God’s angels even if he is the devil. I told you only Willow can deal with Shemhazi, and that’s why we’re going to the desert.” Giles looked over his shoulder, placed the gearshift in reverse, and backed out of the driveway.

“Then what about the damn portal jumper?” Xander raised his hands and rubbed his face. “All of this began because Dawn was being stalked by this bastard, and now all of a sudden the real big bad is an angel from heaven?”

“Fallen angel from heaven,” Giles corrected as he spun the car out of the driveway, pointed it toward Main Street and the Magic Box, and pressed down on the accelerator.

“Okay, whatever!” Xander fumed. “But the portal jumper gave Dawn the headaches. We were robbed of a thought because the portal jumper was gonna kill us all. And god damn you, Giles, the fucking portal jumper took Anya!” Xander pounded his fists on the dashboard.

Giles swerved the car into the right lane as he spotted the entrance to Interstate 10, heading west.

"Let's hope that Spike will be able to deal with the portal jumper," Giles eyes were pinned on the road ahead.

"What?" Xander shook his head and frowned, perplexed. "What the hell does Spike have to do with the portal jumper?"

Giles didn't answer Xander because he wasn't quite sure what to say. All he knew was that only a vampire, a very special vampire, had a chance against the portal jumper. He hoped that by this time, Spike had become that vampire. He also hoped that Spike hadn't forgotten that he cared about Dawn and was in love with Buffy. If he had, then Giles had played the wrong hand by sending Spike to New York City.


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Buffy had taken off her navy blue raincoat, red pullover sweater, and black boots, and was sitting in the middle of the road in her jeans and t-shirt opposite Spike, feeling very hot and sticky. The sun was beating down on her skin, scorching her face, while the giant black forest on either side of her refused to offer even one square inch of shade.

Buffy squinted, her face shriveling into the shape of a dried prune, she imagined, as she looked from Spike’s sunbathed face to the darkness and back. How in the world could it be so perfectly separated, she wondered? No dusky gray or mixed shadows of blinding light and dark overlapping, just black or white, day or night. What an odd dimension for Dawn to pick, she thought as she wiped the sweat from her neck.

“You look quite lovely, pet.”

She stared at him, her lips parting slightly as if to speak. He hadn’t said a word since Dawn and Carlo had gone off in search of water and something to eat. None of them, including Buffy, had been hungry enough to bite into the black fruit hanging from the bushes in the night worlds—that’s what Carlo had named the woods. She hadn't bothered to ask Spike if he was hungry. That wasn't the kind of question you asked a vampire as he sat in the sunlight looking hot and thirsty. Buffy had decided right then and there that she wasn’t going to let herself think about Spike and nourishment.

"Thanks," she finally managed, and then clamped her mouth shut unable to think of anything else to say. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a million questions to ask him, his compliment had thrown her brain into a tizzy. Silly word, she thought, but she had tizzy-brain, nonetheless. He was the same Spike, right? Despite the fact she’d seen him take a bite out of Dawn with her own eyes he was still Spike. Right? He'd explained that. Actually, she recalled, he hadn’t really. All he’d said was if he’d wanted to kill her, he would have. She and Dawn had bought it, though. Carlo, on the other hand, had wanted to go a few rounds with Spike—which Buffy had known would be a huge mistake.

Carlo needed to cool off. He’d just lost his mother and had accused Spike of killing her. Buffy had to watch him every second to make sure Carlo didn’t go after Spike, and she was growing a little weary of being the watch-dog. After a heated discussion, she convinced Dawn and Carlo that she wouldn't let Spike eat her if the two of them went off to search for some food. As long as they stayed on the brightly lit road, Buffy could see them and vice-versa. The middle of the road was a straight line bathed in sunshine for as far as the eye could see, she’d pointed out. At least it was to her eyes.

"Spike, can you see far away?" Since he was all sunshine vampire now, she had to ask. Maybe his acute night vision had turned into really good daylight vision, and he could see what she couldn't—like what was at the end of the road.

"Nothing but sunshine, Love. Everywhere I look." He was staring at her, his eyes smiling.

"Spike, I don't get you." She stood up and began pacing. "You're all different, yet you seem really calm and relaxed as if this is no big deal."

"What else can I do?" Suddenly, he was next to her. Even though she’d been watching him, Buffy hadn't seen Spike get up from where she'd left him sitting in the road. He’d moved that fast.

"Buffy, we're in a dimension that, until Dawn can figure out how to get us out of, we're stuck in." He still had the most annoying expression on his face, kind of happy, kind of sad, thought Buffy as she folded her arms across her chest and listened.

“A little while ago, I stopped being your every day vampire and became your...well...an every day vampire.” Spike raised his head to the sky. He seemed to like doing that lately, Buffy noticed. She imagined that after so many decades in the dark, the sunshine on his face must feel like heaven to him. He must have been too busy trying to kill her back when he’d worn the Gem of Amara and hadn’t taken the time to enjoy the daylight.

“I'm trying to deal with some things here, sweetheart. Changes, major changes, and it's quite a bit to handle." Spike unexpectedly grabbed Buffy by the shoulders; the gleeful look had left his face. He wasn't getting bumpy, but she swore she saw his eyes flash red. Guess yellow was out since he was breathing. That most likely meant he had his own version of blood flowing through his veins.

“You really think Dawn will be able to get us out of here?” Buffy didn’t like the way her voice quivered. She also was having a hard time dealing with the feel of his warm fingers holding onto her hot bare skin. Her eyes must have betrayed her as she looked up at him.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Buffy.” Spike whispered and pulled her so close to him; her sweat-soaked t-shirt clung to his bare chest. She could feel him moving against her, inhaling and exhaling. For a moment, she could feel his heart beating against her breast.

“Spike, what’s happening?” Her voice sounded frightened, but she didn’t care.

“Buffy, I can feel you. Your heart beating, your blood flowing through your body, like I always could. But now, I can feel me, too.” He let go of her shoulder and took her hand into his and lifted it, pressed it to his chest. “Can you feel my heart beating?”

“Yes, Spike.” His face was so close to hers she felt his breath on her lips.

“I’m afraid that when this is all over, I won’t want to live in the dark, Love.” Spike's arms circled her and he pulled her even closer as his lips moved to her ear. “I won’t want to be just a vampire.”

“Spike…” Buffy shuddered, her legs collapsed beneath her as his tongue trailed down the side of her throat, then over her cheekbone. Finally, his lips were pressing against hers, and she was kissing him. And he was kissing her.

to be continued…





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