Chapter 15 – Messages
Cordelia didn’t linger after having delivered her grim message, and Buffy
could easily understand why. Ever since the soul incident, and the explanation
that had followed, Spike had been very wary about the Powers That Be and
their messenger. And with him, wariness often turned into outright hostility.
“We have to tell your Watcher,” he said as he turned to her. “So he can
warn the kiddies and organize some kind of protection. Then we’ll need to
plan about finding Min’s killers.”
Buffy nodded, although she was having more than a simple bad feeling
about all of this. They had been unable to prevent one Slayer’s death,
how where they supposed to protect so many girls at once? Especially when
they didn’t know how many there were, let alone where they lived all around
the world. Spike seemed to notice her mood because he cupped her face in
his hand and gave her a small smile.
“It will be alright, luv. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
She wanted to believe him, more than she had ever wanted to believe anything,
but it was more than difficult.
“Why don’t you go call Giles?” she changed the subject.
He looked surprised at that. “You don’t want to talk to him?”
She shook her head, and his hand fell down from where it was still touching
her face.
“I talked to him last night,” she said. “I told him I don’t want to train
Slayers anymore.”
His surprise grew, now tinted with a little impatience.
“Don’t tell me it’s because of what happened to Min,” he said, a bit
too heatedly. “Because it’s not your fault, and…”
“Don’t,” she interrupted him with a sigh. “My decision is made, and it’s
final. Training them doesn’t do any good anyway.”
“Of course it does!” he exclaimed, sounding incredulous. “Every bit of
training…”
“I said don’t,” she cut in again, crossing her arms defensively. “I won’t
do it anymore, and that’s it.”
His eyes narrowed as he considered her, and she could tell he still wanted
to try to convince her. In the end, he didn’t say anything, though, and
simply shook his head before striding to the kitchen and its phone. She
followed, and sat on one of the bar stools, wanting to see how the call
would go.
She couldn’t help sighing softly as she noticed the tension in his back.
Things had been good between them since he had came back the night before,
since she had realized she had been venting her anger, frustration and
guilt on him and made a conscious effort to stop. But they seemed to be
back to square one, now. First Cordelia’s news, then the way he was reacting
to her decision not to train Slayers any longer…
“Feeling peckish,” he said blankly as he was dialing Giles’ home number.
“Warm me some blood, please?”
“Sure.”
It didn’t take her long to pull out a blood bag from the fridge, empty
it in his favorite mug, and pop it into the microwave.
“What about you?” he said over the faint ringing of the line.
“I’m not hungry,” she replied, slightly sullen.
“You haven’t fed since yesterday morning.”
Was he keeping tabs on her, now, she wondered, annoyed, as she turned
to face him.
“I fed from you last night, didn’t I?” she reminded him blankly.
His features closed at that, but before he could reply anything Giles
finally answered the phone.
“Yes, I now what time it is in bloody England,” he said gruffly. “And
I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
A pause.
“We had a visit from Cordelia. She had a vision, and according to her
the Potentials and the Slayers are all in danger. Whoever got the kid is
after them, too.”
Buffy could hear the curse that answered that statement, so it must have
been really loud.
“No, we don’t know who yet, but we’ll start to investigate as soon as
we’re done here. See if Red can do a little location spell or something.
I guess it wouldn’t hurt if you do research on your side, too.”
Another pause, and Buffy wished she had been close enough to hear.
“Don’t ask me,” Spike replied wryly to whatever Giles had said. “You’re
the big boss, remember? I’m just an employee.”
As she pulled the now warmed mug from the microwave and handed it to
Spike, she gave him a questioning glance. Giles must have asked the same
thing she was thinking, because he answered after taking a sip of the blood:
“Yes, I know she’s quitting. And no, I’m not. Why do you ask? You want
me to quit, too?”
By the way he was looking straight at her as she spoke, she could see
that the words were just as much for her as they were for Giles.
“You’re a big boy,” she murmured, shaking her head. “You do whatever
you want.”
His features became grimmer at that, but he buried the expression in
his mug as he listened to whatever Giles was saying.
“Yeah, I guess it would be a good idea. ‘T’ll be easier to protect them.
Speaking of which, you wouldn’t happen to know where Faith is hiding, would
you? ‘Cause the cheerleader said she’s on the list, too.”
Oh, Buffy could just imagine Faith’s face when they showed up on her
door and told her that no, she hadn’t completely escaped from slayerness
and its untold perks as she had thought. That promised to be a lot of fun.
“Didn’t think so,” Spike was saying. “We’ll have to find her, though.
What about your new Slayer, did you find her?”
Despite herself, Buffy flinched. One more had been called, one more who
didn’t realize yet that her easy years were behind her.
“At least she knows the basics,” he answered with a nod to whatever Giles
was saying. “You’ll bring her here, too?… Alright. We’ll see you in a few
days, then. Call if you have anything new, right? ‘Night, Watcher.”
Finally, he hung up the phone, looking very thoughtful. Buffy simply
watched him as he finished his blood, knowing he wouldn’t be quiet for
long. He never was. And indeed, he soon spoke, but it wasn’t what she had
expected. He seemed to pick up their conversation right where it had stopped
when Giles had answered the phone.
“Even with what you took from me,” he said with a frown, “you can’t possibly
not be hungry.”
“And yet, I’m not,” she replied defensively.
For long seconds, he stared at her. Then he went to the fridge, filled
his empty mug again, and put it to warm.
“The Watcher is coming here,” he commented as the microwave buzzed softly.
“They’re going to gather all the Potentials they know about in a few places
of the globe so they can set up some protection until we find out what’s
going on. He’s making Sunnyhell one of these places, how surprising, and
he’s coming here, along with his girl and the new kid. She was one they knew
about, so she knows how to fight already. We’ll have to find out as much
as we can about what’s going on before they arrive.”
The oven beeped, and he pulled the mug out and settled it on the counter
next to Buffy. She eyed it, then him, ready to repeat again that she wasn’t
hungry – and in truth, she wasn’t – but he spoke before she could say a
word.
“Even if you’re not hungry, you still need to feed. And I’m not going
to let you starve yourself. Whatever the means, even if I don’t like it any
more than you do.”
The threat was clear, if unvoiced. Either she drank by herself, or he
would make her drink. Scowling at him, she picked up the mug.
It was a little after sunset that Willow and Tara walked in the Magic
Box, uncaring for the ‘Sorry, we’re closed’ sign. They had received a little
earlier a phone call from Spike, asking for their help with some localization
spell, and possibly more. It was Buffy however that they found at the research
table, very much alone, and looking somewhere between upset and bored.
“Hi Buffy!” Willow said cheerfully as they approached the table. “Where’s
everyone?”
The vampire gave them a strained smile.
“Hey girls. Anya had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, she and Xander
went straight home after that.”
“And your hubby?” Tara questioned softly.
A small frown marred the blonde’s face for a second.
“In the back room,” she said shortly.
Like all couples, the two vampires argued, but they were usually very
upfront about it, and it rarely lasted long. This seemed different, though,
and Willow could only wonder what was going on, and whether Buffy needed
a friend to talk to. It didn’t look like a good time to ask, though.
“So, who are we looking for?” she asked, settling a spell book and a
map on the table.
“Why don’t you two sit down?” Buffy suggested, and there was a lot of
stress in her voice, so much that it was clear something had happened.
The two witches sat down opposite from Buffy
“Last night, Min… Min was killed. We don’t know by whom. We need to find
out, because Cordy said they’re going after the other Slayers and the Potentials
next. As well as Faith. That’s where we need your help, to find out who
killed her, and to find where Faith is to protect her.”
As Buffy talked, Willow instinctively grabbed Tara’s hand, taking comfort
in her presence and strength, and offering her own. She had liked Min,
the kid was just too sweet not to be likable, and to hear that she was
dead was really a shock.
“Finding Faith shouldn’t be too hard,” she managed to say after a few
seconds. “A simple localization spell.”
“But it might be harder to know who… who killed Min,” Tara continued
in a pained voice, completing Willow’s thought as she often did. “There’s
no specific spell for that.”
“Can you two make one up?”
Tara and Willow turned to look at Spike as he strode in from the back
room.
“So?” he insisted. “You think you can do it?”
Willow and Tara shared a glance, and the former shrugged as she replied.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to think about it, do some research. Don’t
get your hopes too high, though.”
Spike nodded, and picked up his duster where it rested on the bench.
“Fine. I’ll go see if I can catch any rumors of someone boasting they
killed a Slayer. Don’t wait for me.”
Just like that, he was gone. And Willow could only notice the half annoyed,
half hurt look in Buffy’s eyes, and realize that the two blondes had not
even glanced at each other since Spike had come in the shop. There was definitely
trouble in paradise.
The spell to find Faith hadn’t taken long, and Buffy now now knew roughly
where to find the ex-Slayer. A small town, maybe three or four hours north.
The other thing, however, wouldn’t be as easy, as her two friends had explained.
They needed time, and even then it wasn’t sure they could do it.
They had closed the shop, and Buffy had walked to the closest cemetery
while Willow and Tara drove to their apartment. She needed to kill a few
vamps, that would clear up her mind. And her anger, too, hopefully.
It didn’t work quite that well, however. Because, after half an hour,
she stumbled on the source of her anger – no, not the source, just
one of the sources, but the most easily accessed one. They observed each
other in silence for a few seconds, and then started patrolling together.
Still silent.
She knew Spike was angry with her, and she supposed it was a combination
of several things, the most important one certainly being her attitude
concerning feeding. In return, she was angry with him, for treating her
like an irresponsible child. She had never said she would stop feeding
completely, had she? She just hadn’t been hungry. Did he have to make such
a big deal of it?
They patrolled late in the night, taking turns as to who got to dance,
and who simply watched. Once they were back home however, back in their
bed, things changed. It was as if they had never left the comfort of the
sheets, and had stayed there after their earlier lovemaking.
Spooned against Buffy’s back, Spike explained in hushed tones that the
fact that she was his Childe, and souled, was now common knowledge amongst
the town’s demons, and they therefore refused to talk to him at all, calling
him, even more than usual, such kind names as traitor to the demon world
and disgrace to the name of vampire. And so he hadn’t found anything useful
at all. In return, she told him about the spell, and Faith’s location. And
then she asked:
“What is going on? Half an hour ago, you could have staked me simply
with your eyes, and now you cuddle me like nothing happened?”
He was quiet for a few seconds, and she turned in his embrace to look
at him.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he said at last in a murmur. “I just
want to protect you and love you. And it makes me so mad when you won’t
let me… I need to know that you’re OK. It’s more than just caring about
you, it’s in my blood. In your blood. In everything that ties us together.
Don’t ask me to watch you hurt yourself and do nothing, because I can’t.”
“But I’m not hurt,” she tried to reason him. “I’m fine. And I need you
to see it, see that I can take care of myself. I’m not a child.”
“You’re not a child,” he agreed. “But you’re a fledgling. It takes a
lot more than six years to change that.”
She tried not to scowl at the statement.
“I might be a fledgling,” she acquiesced slowly. “But I’m also the Childe
of a very strong Master, and the Slayer. Both things make me stronger than
just any vamp. Can’t you see that? I have to find my own place. Find how
I can be both. You can’t help me define who I am, I have to do it myself.”
There was a pause, and she turned again in his arms, fitting her back
snuggly to his chest, pulling his arms more tightly around her waist.
“Not drinking human blood,” he whispered against her hair, “not sharing
my blood, not allowing the demon out, that’s not defining who you are. That’s
denying that you’re a vampire. It can only make things worse.”
Neither spoke again. Neither fell asleep for a long time. Both knew they
hadn’t convinced the other.
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The characters and names used in these stories do not belong to me. All copyrights remain with Fox and Mutant Enemy. No profit is made from this fanfiction.